Every year the child received an anonymous gift just when he needed it most, without knowing who sent it. He grew up accompanied by those mysterious boxes without ever knowing the person behind them. At the age of 18 he decided to seek the truth… and discovered something that transformed his entire childhood.

His aunt Laura, who was now in charge of him, tried to keep everything in order. Too much order, perhaps. Things were always clean, the food served at the same time, the television on to fill the silence. But there was something that no one could accommodate: the hole that his mother had left.

That Tuesday they knocked on the door at four in the afternoon.

“Are you waiting for someone?” Daniel asked from the table, with his math homework open.

“No,” replied her aunt, wiping her hands with a cloth.

When I opened it, there was no one there. Just a small box, neatly wrapped in brown paper, with no return address.

“How strange,” she murmured.

Daniel approached curiously. At the top, handwritten, was a single sentence:

“For Daniel. Open it today.”

Inside they found a new backpack.

Not just any one. It was sturdy, dark blue, with many compartments. Exactly the type of backpack that the teacher had asked for that week because hers was already broken and there was not enough to buy another.

“Who sent it?” Daniel asked.

Her aunt shook her head.

“I don’t know, my love.

They thought it was an acquaintance of his mother’s. Someone who didn’t want to give his name. Someone who wanted to help.

But there was no news again.

Until the following year.

Daniel had almost forgotten that package when, just the same day, exactly one year later, there was another knock on the door.

This time it was he who opened.

Another box.

Again without a sender.

Again the same lyrics:

“For Daniel. Open it today.”

Inside were some new sneakers.