{"id":63,"date":"2026-07-12T23:05:18","date_gmt":"2026-07-12T23:05:18","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/quickrecipes.delicedcook.com\/?p=63"},"modified":"2026-07-13T11:13:54","modified_gmt":"2026-07-13T11:13:54","slug":"my-mom-spent-20-years-bringing-meals-to-a-homeless-man-behind-our-house-the-day-after-she-died-he-held-my-hands-and-said-something-that-changed-everything","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/quickrecipes.delicedcook.com\/?p=63","title":{"rendered":"My Mom Spent 20 Years Bringing Meals to a Homeless Man Behind Our House \u2013 The Day After She Died, He Held My Hands and Said Something That Changed Everything"},"content":{"rendered":"

For most of my life, I believed my mother had chosen a homeless man over her own daughter. Even after she passed away, I continued bringing food to Victor only because I had given her my word. But the moment he showed me her missing locket, I realized she had never been hiding kindness from me.<\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n<\/div>\n

She had been hiding \u00a0<\/a>FAM IL<\/span><\/p>\n

The day after my mother\u2019s funeral, the homeless man who had lived behind our house disappeared.<\/p>\n

Throughout most of my childhood, Victor stayed behind our small rental home in a shelter built from tarps and scraps of wood. Every single day, my mother made sure he had something to eat.<\/p>\n

When I returned carrying the meal she had begged me to bring him, I found Victor standing beside a black SUV wearing a clean coat and holding my mother\u2019s silver locket.<\/p>\n

\n

 <\/p>\n

\n
\n
\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

 <\/p>\n<\/div>\n

The same locket she claimed she had lost when I was eight years old.<\/p>\n

Victor had lived behind our little rental.<\/p>\n

\u201cI thought you couldn\u2019t come, Fiona,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

The container nearly slipped from my hands.<\/p>\n

\u201cVictor? How?\u201d<\/p>\n

\"\"
For illustrative purposes only<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n
<\/div>\n

Without his beard, he looked much older. His eyes were red and exhausted.<\/p>\n

\u201cI brought dinner,\u201d I said. \u201cBut what\u2019s going on?\u201d<\/p>\n

He tightened his grip on the locket.<\/p>\n

\u201cI thought you couldn\u2019t come, Fiona.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBefore she died,\u201d he said, \u201cyour mother begged me to stay silent.\u201d<\/p>\n

A chill ran through me.<\/p>\n

\u201cAbout what?\u201d<\/p>\n

Victor glanced toward the kitchen window where Mom used to watch him whenever she thought I wasn\u2019t paying attention.<\/p>\n

\u201cAbout who I am.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAbout what?\u201d<\/p>\n

Every day at lunchtime, my mother prepared three meals.<\/p>\n

Two remained on our worn kitchen table. The third was packed into whatever plastic container she could clean and reuse for Victor.<\/p>\n

I hated it.<\/p>\n

My sneakers were patched with tape while Victor always seemed to get the largest piece of chicken. We were struggling too.<\/p>\n

I was eleven when I finally said it aloud.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

\u201cHe eats better than I do, Mom.\u201d<\/p>\n

We were poor too.<\/p>\n

Mom kept stirring at the stove. \u201cFiona, don\u2019t start. Please.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMom, the lights got cut off twice this winter,\u201d I said. \u201cBut Victor gets lunch every day like he\u2019s family.\u201d<\/p>\n

The spoon slipped from her fingers and hit the sink.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t say his name like that, Fiona. He needs help.\u201d<\/p>\n

I crossed my arms. I was hungry, cold, and carrying the kind of bitterness only a wounded child can feel.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy? He\u2019s just some man behind our house.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mom turned around, her face suddenly pale.<\/p>\n

\u201cVictor gets lunch every day like he\u2019s family.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d she said. \u201cHe isn\u2019t just some man.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen who is he?\u201d<\/p>\n

For a moment, I thought she might finally answer.<\/p>\n

Instead, she placed the warm container into my hands.<\/p>\n

\u201cTake him his food, hon.\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked at her. \u201cMaybe if you stopped feeding strangers, we wouldn\u2019t live like this.\u201d<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

Mom slammed her hand against the counter so hard that I jumped.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe isn\u2019t just some man.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t you ever say that again. Do you hear me? You have no idea what that man gave up.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGave up for who? You?\u201d<\/p>\n

Her hands trembled.<\/p>\n

Then she turned away.<\/p>\n

\u201cTake him his food, Fiona. This conversation is over.\u201d<\/p>\n

So I went.<\/p>\n

\u201cGave up for who? You?\u201d<\/p>\n

Victor sat near the fence, rubbing warmth into his hands.<\/p>\n

\u201cYour mom make soup today?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cYeah. Chicken.\u201d<\/p>\n

A gentle smile appeared on his face.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s her best one.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t even know her.\u201d<\/p>\n

The smile vanished.<\/p>\n

\u201cI know her soup.\u201d<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

That answer made me resent him even more.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou don\u2019t even know her.\u201d<\/p>\n

The years passed, and eventually I moved out. Mom and I argued less because I stopped asking questions.<\/p>\n

But Victor never left.<\/p>\n

Sometimes I would see him repairing the loose porch step or stacking firewood after a storm.<\/p>\n

One year in high school, my boots split apart. The next day, a used pair appeared beside my backpack.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere did these come from?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cChurch donation,\u201d Mom answered far too quickly.<\/p>\n

But Victor stayed.<\/p>\n

I glanced through the kitchen window.<\/p>\n

Victor was brushing snow off the steps.<\/p>\n

I simply couldn\u2019t understand.<\/p>\n

Then cancer arrived and slowly made my mother smaller.<\/p>\n

Stephanie had once carried groceries in both arms and opened doors with her elbows. Near the end, her wrist bones showed beneath her skin.<\/p>\n

Two weeks before she died, I sat beside her hospital bed while she picked at the blanket.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

I just didn\u2019t understand.<\/p>\n

\u201cFiona.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m here.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou have to promise me something.\u201d<\/p>\n

I leaned closer. \u201cMom, rest.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo.\u201d Her fingers wrapped around my wrist. \u201cVictor.\u201d<\/p>\n

My stomach tightened.<\/p>\n

\u201cNot this again.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMom, rest.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPromise me you\u2019ll feed him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy?\u201d I whispered. \u201cWhy him? Why always him?\u201d<\/p>\n

Tears filled her eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cI never put him before you.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt felt like you did.\u201d<\/p>\n

\n
<\/div>\n<\/div>\n

\u201cI know.\u201d Her voice cracked. \u201cAnd I\u2019m sorry.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen tell me why.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy him? Why always him?\u201d<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

Her gaze shifted toward the door.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf Mark comes around after I\u2019m gone, don\u2019t let him touch the blue box.\u201d<\/p>\n

I blinked. \u201cUncle Mark?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cPromise me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat does Mark have to do with Victor?\u201d<\/p>\n

Her grip grew tighter.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019ll erase him completely.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat does Mark have to do with Victor?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cErase who?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust promise me, Fiona.\u201d<\/p>\n

I wanted answers, but she looked terrified, and I was still her daughter.<\/p>\n

\u201cI promise,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n

A tear rolled down her cheek.<\/p>\n

\u201cHe was my safe place,\u201d she whispered.<\/p>\n

A few days later, she was gone.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust promise me, Fiona.\u201d<\/p>\n

After the funeral, people crowded Mom\u2019s small house with sandwiches and quiet condolences. Years earlier, she had managed to buy the place after saving every dollar she could.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

Uncle Mark stood near the hallway, already sorting through boxes.<\/p>\n

I walked toward him.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d<\/p>\n

He gave me the calm smile he used whenever he wanted me to feel unreasonable.<\/p>\n

\u201cHelping.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBy going through her things?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYour mother kept too much, Fiona. Old papers. Broken dishes. Things that only made her sad.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat are you doing?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019ll decide what stays.\u201d<\/p>\n

His smile narrowed.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re grieving. This isn\u2019t the time to make emotional choices.\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked past him toward the backyard window. Victor\u2019s shelter sat behind the fence, hidden among weeds.<\/p>\n

\u201cFunny,\u201d I said. \u201cMom told me the same thing about you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mark\u2019s hand froze on a cardboard box.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat did Stephanie say?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat if you came around, I shouldn\u2019t let you touch the blue box.\u201d<\/p>\n

For an instant, his expression changed.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

\u201cThis isn\u2019t the time to make emotional choices.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then he laughed quietly.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe was sick.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe was scared.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf me?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou tell me.\u201d<\/p>\n

He glanced toward the relatives in the living room before lowering his voice.<\/p>\n

\u201cLeave old pain buried, Fiona.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe was sick.\u201d<\/p>\n

The next morning, I made beef stew because it was the only thing I knew how to cook without ruining. I packed it into one of Mom\u2019s containers and drove to her house.<\/p>\n

The first thing I noticed was that Victor\u2019s shelter was empty.<\/p>\n

The blanket had been folded. The coffee cans were gone. Even the firewood had been stacked neatly.<\/p>\n

\u201cVictor?\u201d I called.<\/p>\n

\u201cFiona.\u201d<\/p>\n

I turned.<\/p>\n

I noticed was that Victor\u2019s shelter was empty.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

Victor stood near the back steps wearing a clean dark coat. A black SUV was parked beside him.<\/p>\n

My stomach dropped.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhose car is that?\u201d<\/p>\n

Before he could answer, Mrs. Bell stepped out from the driver\u2019s side.<\/p>\n

\u201cBorrowed from my nephew,\u201d she said. \u201cVictor wanted to say goodbye to your mother without Mark making a scene. We went to her grave.\u201d<\/p>\n

I looked at his coat.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhose car is that?\u201d<\/p>\n

He touched the sleeve awkwardly.<\/p>\n

\u201cBorrowed too.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then I noticed the locket in his hand.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere did you get my mother\u2019s necklace? I know it from photos.\u201d<\/p>\n

His thumb traced the dented silver edge.<\/p>\n

\u201cStephanie gave it to me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat locket was lost.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d Victor said. \u201cShe told you it was.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cStephanie gave it to me.\u201d<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

My chest tightened.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy would my mother give you her locket?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause I gave it to her first.\u201d<\/p>\n

I stared at him.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhen?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhen she was ten, I think. Maybe younger,\u201d he said. \u201cShe had a bad day. I told her if she wore it, she could pretend I was walking beside her.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mrs. Bell lowered her eyes.<\/p>\n

\u201cI gave it to her first.\u201d<\/p>\n

Victor opened the locket.<\/p>\n

Inside was a faded photo of two \u00a0<\/a>CHILDRIN<\/span>\u00a0sitting on porch steps, his arm draped around her shoulders.<\/p>\n

On the back, scratched in childish handwriting, were three words.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy safe place.\u201d<\/p>\n

My throat tightened.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat\u2019s Mom?\u201d<\/p>\n

Victor nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd the boy is you?\u201d<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

\u201cMy safe place.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n

I took a step backward.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. Mom only had one brother.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMark was the youngest.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re lying.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI wish I was.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIf you were her brother,\u201d I said, my voice rising, \u201cwhy did she make you live outside?\u201d<\/p>\n

Victor flinched.<\/p>\n

\u201cMom only had one brother.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mrs. Bell answered before he could.<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause Mark scared her.\u201d<\/p>\n

I turned toward her.<\/p>\n

\u201cScared her how?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe told Stephanie people would call her unfit if she let Victor near you. She was poor, single, and terrified.\u201d<\/p>\n

Victor closed the locket.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe let me stay close. That was all she thought she could risk. I wasn\u2019t easy to help, Fiona. But your mother never stopped trying.\u201d<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

\u201cScared her how?\u201d<\/p>\n

My thoughts returned immediately to Mom\u2019s hospital room.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe blue box,\u201d I whispered.<\/p>\n

Victor looked up.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe told you?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cShe said not to let Mark touch it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mrs. Bell pointed toward the house.<\/p>\n

\u201cThen stop standing here.\u201d<\/p>\n

I rushed inside and searched through Mom\u2019s closet until I found the blue box beneath old blankets.<\/p>\n

My name was written across the lid.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe told you?\u201d<\/p>\n

Inside were photographs, letters, and envelopes.<\/p>\n

The first photo showed Mom as a little girl standing beside Victor. Her knees were scraped. His lip was swollen.<\/p>\n

Written on the back in Mom\u2019s handwriting were the words:<\/p>\n

\u201cVictor walked me home again.\u201d<\/p>\n

I opened the letter addressed to me.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n
\"\"
For illustrative purposes only<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n
<\/div>\n

\u201cFiona,<\/p>\n

If you are reading this, then I wasn\u2019t brave enough to tell you while I was alive.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cVictor walked me home again.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cVictor was my brother before he was anything else. He packed my lunch, walked me to school, and gave me the good blanket when there was only one.<\/p>\n

Once, when we were children, he took our mother\u2019s bracelet and tried to sell it. Not for candy. For blankets, because the pipes had frozen and we were freezing.<\/p>\n

They never forgave him. Not Mark, not our parents.<\/p>\n

Mark used that story for years. \u201cVictor steals,\u201d he\u2019d say, even after Victor kept me warm.<\/p>\n

Then Victor got sick, and our \u00a0family<\/span><\/a> punished him for becoming the kind of person they already wanted to throw away.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey never forgave him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cMark said Victor was dangerous. He said I was too poor to understand risk. When you were little, he told me that if I let Victor near you, people would ask whether I was fit to be your mother.<\/p>\n

I believed he could take you from me.<\/p>\n

So I made the worst bargain of my life. I kept Victor alive, but I let you think he was a stranger.<\/p>\n

Please don\u2019t let Mark put him outside again.<\/p>\n

Love, Mom.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI let you think he was a stranger.\u201d<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n
\n

I grabbed the box and ran next door.<\/p>\n

Mrs. Bell opened the door before I could finish knocking.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou know,\u201d she said.<\/p>\n

I held up the photo.<\/p>\n

\u201cTell me I\u2019m not losing my mind.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, honey. You\u2019re finally being told the truth.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cWhy didn\u2019t anyone tell me?\u201d<\/p>\n

I grabbed the box.<\/p>\n

\u201cYour mama was scared.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cOf Mark?\u201d<\/p>\n

Mrs. Bell nodded.<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd of the story your family kept repeating. Everyone forgot why Victor took that bracelet.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cFor blankets,\u201d I whispered.<\/p>\n

\u201cFor survival,\u201d she said. \u201cThen Mark grew up and learned how useful shame could be.\u201d<\/p>\n

I thought about the boots. The firewood. The porch step.<\/p>\n

He had always been there.<\/p>\n

As close as they allowed him to be.<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

\u201cFor survival.\u201d<\/p>\n

When I returned to Mom\u2019s house, Mark was already there holding the blue box.<\/p>\n

I stopped in the doorway.<\/p>\n

\u201cPut that down.\u201d<\/p>\n

He offered his gentlest smile.<\/p>\n

\u201cFiona, you\u2019re upset. Let me handle this.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d I said. \u201cYou handled enough.\u201d<\/p>\n

Then Victor walked in behind me.<\/p>\n

Mark\u2019s face hardened.<\/p>\n

\u201cGet him out.\u201d<\/p>\n

I stepped in front of Victor.<\/p>\n

\u201cHis name is Victor. He\u2019s Mom\u2019s brother.\u201d<\/p>\n

Pregnancy& Maternity<\/div>\n

\u201cYou handled enough.\u201d<\/p>\n

Aunt Linda gasped.<\/p>\n

\u201cBut you said he died, Mark!\u201d<\/p>\n

Mark snapped back.<\/p>\n

\u201cBecause that was easier.\u201d<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

\u201cEasier for who?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n

He looked toward his wife, waiting for support.<\/p>\n

I raised Mom\u2019s letter.<\/p>\n

\u201cShe wrote everything down. You threatened her, used her poverty against her, and made her believe loving her brother could cost her daughter.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cBut you said he died, Mark!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI protected this family,\u201d Mark said.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo. You protected the version where Victor didn\u2019t exist.\u201d<\/p>\n

Victor\u2019s voice trembled, but he stood tall.<\/p>\n

\u201cI chose Stephanie when you chose appearances.\u201d<\/p>\n

Mark grabbed his coat.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019ll regret this, Fiona. He\u2019ll suck the life out of you. He did that to Stephanie.\u201d<\/p>\n

<\/div>\n

Aunt Linda stepped between him and the hallway table where Mom\u2019s papers were stacked.<\/p>\n

\u201cI protected this family.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cLeave the box,\u201d she said to her husband.<\/p>\n

Mark stared at her.<\/p>\n

\u201cLinda.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d she replied, her voice shaking. \u201cYou told us he was dead.\u201d<\/p>\n

Death& Tragedy<\/div>\n

The room fell silent in a completely different way.<\/p>\n

Not confused.<\/p>\n

Judgmental.<\/p>\n

Mark couldn\u2019t find a single friendly face.<\/p>\n

Finally, he dropped the box, pulled open the door, and walked out.<\/p>\n

\u201cLeave the box.\u201d<\/p>\n

\"\"
For illustrative purposes only<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n
<\/div>\n

<\/p>\n

I turned toward Victor.<\/p>\n

\u201cUncle Victor,\u201d I said, pulling out a chair. \u201cCome sit down.\u201d<\/p>\n

I placed two bowls of soup on Mom\u2019s worn kitchen table.<\/p>\n

Pregnancy& Maternity<\/div>\n

Victor paused in the doorway.<\/p>\n

\u201cI can eat outside.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNo,\u201d I said. \u201cYou don\u2019t eat outside anymore. Tonight, you\u2019re staying here. Tomorrow, we\u2019ll figure out the rest together.\u201d<\/p>\n

He sat down slowly, still holding the locket.<\/p>\n

For the first time in twenty years, Victor\u2019s meal didn\u2019t leave through the back door.<\/p>\n

It remained at the table.<\/p>\n

Right where family belonged.<\/p>\n

\u201cTomorrow, we\u2019ll figure out the rest.\u201d<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

For most of my life, I believed my mother had chosen a homeless man over her own daughter. Even after…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":64,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-63","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/quickrecipes.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/63","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/quickrecipes.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/quickrecipes.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/quickrecipes.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/quickrecipes.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=63"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/quickrecipes.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/63\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":65,"href":"https:\/\/quickrecipes.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/63\/revisions\/65"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/quickrecipes.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/64"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/quickrecipes.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=63"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/quickrecipes.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=63"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/quickrecipes.delicedcook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=63"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}