She was about to donate her late husband’s old coat when she found a key and a piece of paper with an address in the pocket. What she found there…

There, away from the noise of the city, she could hear the birds singing and feel the breeze caressing her face. At that moment, she made her decision. Three weeks later, the apartment downtown was empty, her belongings packed and moved to the dream house, the house Roger had prepared for them.

The children, initially surprised by the sudden decision, soon understood and supported the move. Martha transformed the third bedroom into a small office, where she volunteered a few times a week. She didn’t completely abandon medicine, but she rediscovered the balance she had lost.

The gardens were gradually restored, with the help of a local gardener who taught Martha the secrets of cultivation. Her hands, once accustomed to surgical precision, now learned the delicacy needed to prune roses and transplant seedlings. On Sundays, the house was filled with life.

Lawrence brought his wife and their three children. Audrey came with her husband and the twins. The dining table, once empty, now could barely accommodate everyone during the noisy and joyful meals.

One spring afternoon, almost a year after finding the key in Roger’s coat pocket, Martha was planting tulips along the driveway, when Audrey approached. You know, Mum, I was so worried about you after Dad was gone, she said, sitting on the grass next to Martha. You seem to have given up on living, too.

Martha smiled, observing her dirt-stained hands, so different from the always immaculate hands she maintained during her career. For a while I really gave up, she admitted. But then Roger, even though he was no longer here, found a way to remind me that there was still life to be lived.

That night, after everyone left, Martha sat again on the porch with a cup of tea. Roger’s favourite tweed coat rested on her shoulders, now a comfort instead of a source of pain. Thank you for the key, my love, she whispered to the stars beginning to appear in the sky.

Not just for this house, but for my new beginning. A gentle breeze passed, swaying the wind chimes she had hung on the porch, creating a delicate melody that seemed to say, to everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under heaven. And Martha, at last, was ready for her new purpose.