With a shrug and a wry smile directed at Joe, he remarked, "Keep striving, my boy. Listen to your mother. She's right. I can't rescue you. Study diligently."

Then he turned and departed.

Joe was left behind, stunned.

He grasped at his mother's clothing, pledging, “Mom, I'll study hard. I promise."

He was so earnest now.

Children had a way of melting hearts like this.

He understood that he was on his own.

So, he resolved to mend his ways.

Seating herself, Camila instructed, "Let me see the name you wrote in your workbook yesterday."

Joe promptly fetched his textbook.

He had only just begun.

His handwriting left much to be desired.

Without criticizing him, Camila remarked, "Very good. You can write your name now. Although your handwriting isn't very neat yet, I'm confident it will improve with practice."

Joe's face lit up at the praise. "Mom, do you think I'm doing well?"

Running her hand through his hair, Camila assured him, “Of course, you are."

Joe beamed with happiness.

When Camila left home, she didn't bring any books with her.

Instead, she downloaded some poems from the internet, printed them out, and bound them together for Joe.

She taught him to write and recite.

"Is there anything else you want to learn?"