The Forgotten Boy Who Built a Legacy of Belonging
Bernardo Briceño’s earliest memories are not of lullabies or warm embraces, but of silence, cold air, and an overwhelming sense of not belonging. As a small child in a crumbling orphanage, he would crawl from his cot into the shadows of a place that rarely offered comfort. Instead of affection, he was met with stern voices, distant arguments, and a haunting phrase he never forgot: “We have to get rid of that brat.”
Those words, spoken when he was too young to fully understand, left a deep imprint. The orphanage itself mirrored the neglect inside it—dim corridors heavy with the scent of old disinfectant, meals that were cold and tasteless, and rules enforced with more rigidity than care. Though some caretakers showed moments of gentleness, warmth was rare and fleeting. Still, Bernardo held on to a quiet hope: that someone, someday, would see him not as a burden, but as a child deserving of love.
Continue reading on the next page…