I hadn't even realized—it had completely slipped my mind.
"Oh... right," I muttered, feeling a slight flush creep up my neck. "I didn't even notice. Time's been moving so fast."
Father Emanuel chuckled again, his voice warm and kind. "You've got a lot on your plate, no doubt. But today, take a moment to celebrate yourself. You've made it to 21, Sunny. That's no small thing."
I felt the weight of his words sink in. I had made it. I had made it this far. There were so many moments when I wasn't sure I would, when I was lost in the darkness of the orphanage or the grueling farm labor, wondering if anyone would ever care about me or if I would ever really find a place to belong. But I had made it through. And now, I was here, at 21, starting a new life.
"Thanks, Father," I said again, my voice quieter this time. "That means a lot."
"I'm glad to hear it, my boy," Father Emanuel replied. "Remember, you're never alone. You're always part of the Miracle Light family, no matter where you are."
I swallowed hard, my throat tight again. I didn't have many people in my life, but the fact that Father Emanuel was still there, that he still cared about me, was something I didn't take for granted.
"I won't forget," I said, my voice firm now. "I promise."
"I know you won't," Father Emanuel said softly. "Now, go out there and take on the world, Sunny. You've got everything you need."
"Thanks," I replied, feeling a smile tug at my lips. "I will. I'll make you proud."
There was a pause, and then Father Emanuel's voice became light again. "Alright, I won't keep you any longer. But don't forget—take some time for yourself today. It's your birthday, after all."
"I will," I said, chuckling a little. "Happy to be alive, I guess."
Father Emanuel laughed, the sound full of warmth. "Good. That's all I want to hear. Have a good day, Sunny."
"You too, Father. Talk to you soon."
The line went quiet, and I lowered my phone, staring down at it for a moment. Father Emanuel's words echoed in my mind: *You've made it to 21. That's no small thing.*
I leaned back in my chair, letting the reality of it settle in. I was 21. For some reason, it felt like I should have been celebrating, but instead, I felt a sense of quiet pride. I had made it this far, and I was still standing, still fighting. No matter how many times life had knocked me down, I had kept going. And today was a reminder that the journey wasn't over. It was just beginning.
I stood up and walked to the window, looking out over the small Texas town. The sun was higher in the sky now, casting a golden hue over everything. This place, this life—it was mine to build, one step at a time.
A soft smile crossed my face, and for the first time in a long time, I felt like I could breathe.
Happy birthday, Sunny Gibson. The world was waiting.
The day passed slowly, the minutes stretching into hours as I moved through the motions of my routine. I couldn't shake off the conversation with Father Emanuel. His words about making it to 21 kept echoing in my mind, and for the first time in a long time, I actually allowed myself to believe it—that I had made it.