When I was a baby, my parents gave me anything I wanted. I would play with a toy for a while, get bored, and ask my parents for a new one. Then my dad died when I was 2, and I got even more stuff as my mom, friends, and family gave me more and more stuff to try to make me feel better. My mom continued to treat me to whatever I wanted until I was seven and my world crashed.

That was when the real estate market crashed. My mom had thought buying houses was a good idea as a way to invest her money to take care of us. After the crash, I went from the kid who got a fine iPod and who had the coolest house, to almost having nowhere to stay.

Since then, when I would ask for a new toy or bike, or even to see a movie my mom would say “I’m sorry, honey but we really can’t afford that right now.” But my mom had grown up in a family where money was never a problem, so this change was as big for her as it was for me. My constant requests for toys and video games deepened her concern about our financial situation. But I wasn’t used to hearing “no.” So, for a year or two, I kept asking for things whether I really needed them or not.

Then something happened that would change my way of thinking forever. My mom had been working really hard all year, just to pay for the necessities, like our rents, and water and power bills. When she asked me what I wanted for my birthday, I said that I wanted a new video gaming system. I didn’t know that it was expensive. All I knew was that my friends had them and that I wanted one, too.

On my birthday, I started opening presents, believing that I would get what I asked.

From then on, I wouldn’t ask for anything that I didn’t need.

Adler lived with his unemployed mother and a younger brother in a small house in Durango. Like other boys at his age, the golden-haired boy wanted to play with his friends and have fun, but fate had other plans. After observing what was happening in his house, the boy decided to do something for his family. He picked up his only toy, a ball, and left his house with a mission—to help his family.

Little Adler walked to the nearest store with his last toy in hand, hoping he could sell it. While the little boy was selling his toy at the street, a man with the TikTok name Ruben Cervantes spotted him. Curious, he approached Adler to see what happened to him.

With tears in his eyes the little one said, “I just want to sell my only toy, sir. Would you like it?” When Cervantes learned Adler was selling his toy to help his family, he asked, “How much is it?” Adler replied, “I don’t want money, sir I just want milk and bread for my family.”

At that moment, Cervantes was so moved While other children at his age were enjoying and living a carefree life, Adler was worrying about his home’s financial situation. Without hesitation, Cervantes took the ball from the boy, gave him a hug and said, “Don’t cry, my boy. I’ll keep your ball for now, hoping to play it with you one day.” Cervantes did buy milk and bread in exchange for his ball and sent him back home. The boy flashed a toothy smile and said, “Thank you so much, sir. I’m looking forward.”

Immediately Cervantes got home, he posted Adler’s story on TikTok. All the viewers were touched by his devotion to his family and expressed their willingness to help the poor family. For a month, piles of food and clothes were flooding into Cervantes’ home. Apparently, it’s time for him to pay a visit.

One day, there was a knock at the door.

Once when I was young and had a loose tooth, I asked my father, a dentist, to look at it.

“It needs to be pulled，” he told me. I frowned, afraid of the pain of that experience. My dad sent me for some tissues and I imagined them soaking up liters of blood from my mouth. I closed my eyes and strengthened myself. I was still waiting for him to pull when I heard my father say, “I’m done.”

I opened my eyes and saw my tooth in his tissue­covered hand. I hadn’t felt anything, and there was just a bit of blood on the tissues. I thought my father was a magician.

The next day at school I bragged to a friend about my father’s wonderful skill. When I explained that the process didn’t hurt, my friend called me a liar. He said that when his tooth was pulled, it had hurt a lot. I talked to my father about this and there was not a single mystery left after my father’s explanation: my tooth had been ready to be removed, while my friend’s had not.

“I’m going to be a dentist，” I declared. I wanted to follow in the professional footsteps of my father, my uncle and grandmother. My father supported my ambition, honoring my interest in his profession even when I was young. He always encouraged me, saying，“To achieve your goal, you should always be devoting hard work and effort to it.”

I didn’t need to visit my father’s office as a child because I had few cavities. As I entered the elementary school and began eating more candy, however, I visited more often. I didn’t mind, though. I was the only kid I knew who was excited about going to the dentist. After my father worked on my teeth, he let me hang around. And I was amazed as he operated complicated machines, leaning over patients’ mouths with a tiny mirror strapped to his head.

Once, when my dad was pulling my mother’s teeth, he even let me clear her mouth.　

Years later, the dream of a child has not declined but actually grown firmer.