Mourners dressed in black with their heads bowed in reverence came to the cathedral to say their final goodbyes to Eleanor, a respected and generous woman who left sizable fortune behind. Priest Michael approached the casket, sensing something unusual about the woman whom he had never talked to but felt like he had known her forever.

When he bowed his head to begin the prayer, Father Michael looked at Eleanor, and something caught his eye. Behind her ear stood a purplish birthmark, clearly visible on Eleanor’s rather pale skin.

Instinctively, the priest touched his neck. He had that same birthmark that resembled a tiny plum.

At that moment, memories of his young days at the orphanage came flooding like a restless river. The words from the woman who took care of him there rang in his head. “All I know about your birth mother is that she has a birthmark on her neck, that’s all I remember,” she once told him.

It felt like the cathedral started spinning, but he knew he needed to proceed with the service, so he collected himself and continued the prayer in the spirit of his calm demeanor.

After the funeral, he approached Eleanor’s children. She had two sons and two daughters, all of them respected individuals just like their mother.

Unable to control his words, he asked, “Do you know if your mother had another child before she had you?”

His words confused Eleanor’s children. “Why, Father Michael? Did my mom tell you anything in confession?” one of the sons asked.

“No,” the priest answered. “I have never met your mother in person, I just needed some answers.”

“Please, Father, tell us what you know,” Anne, the youngest of the siblings begged.

Michael felt like he needed to share his doubts. He told them about the orphanage and about his mother, who had a birthmark just like the one he had spotted on Eleanor’s neck.

While the rest of the siblings said their mother having another child was not possible, accusing him of speaking lies of her, Anne said she was willing to do a DNA test. It was as though something inside her told her Michael could indeed be their older brother.

Days turned into weeks before a letter from the lab arrived at the rectory.

The priest took it in his shaking hands. It was the moment of truth, the moment that would finally provide the answers he was longing for all those years.

When he opened the letter, it read: It’s a match.

Michael got the closure he wanted, but the only person with all the answers wasn’t around any more.

In the days to come, he tried establishing a connection to Eleanor’s children, but they were unable to accept the reality of having another brother. Except for Anne. She welcomed Michael into her life with arms wide open and visited him at the rectory daily, bringing home made cookies and sharing stories about her mother.

Once the truth was out, Eleanor’s best friend, a lady named Margaret visited Priest Michael.

She felt like she owned it to her friend to tell her son the truth.

Eleanor met a man, a traveler, a free spirit, when she was very young. She fell pregnant and was afraid to tell her parents of the child. She knew her father would never forgive her if she gave birth that young and with a man who wasn’t worthy in his eyes.

However, Eleanor didn’t want to terminate the pregnancy. Instead, she gave birth and gave Michael to the orphanage, often visiting the place to ask about him and make sure he was safe.

Michael was stunned by this confession. “So, my mother abandoned me but still looked over me from a distance,” he said.

“Yes, she did,” Margaret assured him.

Hearing this, this kind-hearted priest found the courage to visit his mother’s grave. Placing the bouquet of flowers on it, he whispered, “Mom, I forgive you.”

Over time, all of his half-siblings accepted him and he became part of their lives.