They: The Invisible Hands That Held Me Up

Childhood Is Not Only Cared For, It Is Also Accompanied

Since I was little, I grew up in a home where there were always women helping with cleaning and household chores. But saying they were “just there to help” would be an understatement. To me, they were much more. They were company, comfort, and silent love.

My parents had their own business and always worked together, and since there were three of us children, their support at home was indispensable. My mother taught me from a young age to respect them and honor their work.

I remember one of them, my nanny. She would pick me up from kindergarten and buy me a popsicle on the way home, making little arrangements with the popsicle man. She played hide-and-seek with me, took care of me when my parents went out on Saturdays, made sure I ate, and ensured I was well.

The Relay of Love

When she left because she got married, another woman came into our home. She had long black hair I loved to braid and style. She let me, and between chats and games, we wove a subtle yet profound friendship. Years later, she passed away while giving birth. Her departure touched our souls deeply.

She listened to me. Sometimes she would play stories on the radio that she liked to hear—even though they scared me, I stayed close to her during those moments. She liked the popular singers of the time and had posters of them in her room.

Adulthood and the Value of the Invisible

Years later, when I got married for the first time, I lived a very different stage. There were no helping hands anymore, only mine. Raising my children, working, cleaning, sustaining the household—everything fell on me. And that experience transformed me.

It taught me to be grateful for the most basic things: water, food, a tidy home. It gave me values that today are the roots of who I am.

As Within, So Without

Today, a new woman has come to support me at home, and from a place of greater awareness, I watch her with admiration. Her physical and emotional strength, her dedication, her constancy. She helps me bring deep order to my home, and I understand that this order is also a reflection of my inner world.

I feel grateful because today she prepares salsas that taste like home, and a vegetable soup filled with love and care—the kind of nourishment I once longed for someone to give me.

"Sometimes, the greatest teachers don’t come in books or on stages… they come in the form of women who hold the world together from the kitchen, from the living room, from the soul."

Let Us Honor Those Who Hold Us

Today I want to pay tribute to all those women who have passed through my life—and through so many lives—leaving traces of love, strength, and silent service. Each one with her personal struggles, which she never burdened the family with, but carried quietly. And when we dare to truly see them, we are astonished.

They watched us grow and were great souls who helped bring order and balance to our homes. They cooked for us with love, nurtured us with their meals and dedication. They ironed our clothes so we would look radiant and always presentable.

Thank you for what you have been.
Thank you for what you are.
Thank you for holding us with so much love.

They are treasures of our society.

An Invitation

Take a pause.
Remember that person who has supported you in your life—whether visible or invisible.

Write it down. Thank them. Share it.