She'd fled poverty in 1990, the coin a gift from her dying father. "America will lift you up, " he'd said, pressing it into her hand.
She arrived with nothing but that promise, working grueling nights in a factory. The coin stayed with her, a silent companion through loneliness and struggle. Years later, she opened a small bakery, its success bittersweet without him. On the tenth anniversary, she baked a cake shaped like an eagle, placing the coin atop it. Her daughter, born in freedom, asked its story.
Maria wept, recounting her father's sacrifice. "This coin bought our dreams, " she said. That night, she buried it beneath a tree in their yard, a root for their new life. The Silver Eagle, once her only wealth, became a monument to resilience, its wings carrying her father's love across oceans and time, proving that even in.