— “He’s not alone, grandma… mom is next to him…”
The words cut through the cold air like a thin blade. Grandma felt her blood freeze in her veins. She looked at Dani, who didn’t blink, his wide eyes fixed somewhere above the coffin, as if he could see what others could not.
— “What did you say, little one?” she whispered, trembling.
The boy didn’t answer immediately. He squeezed his teddy bear tighter and added with a chilling calm:
— “Mommy is holding his hand… and smiling.”
The woman felt a lump in her throat. The people around took a step back, exchanging anxious glances. An old woman from the village quickly made the sign of the cross, murmuring a prayer.
Grandma took his hand and gently pulled him closer, trying to get him out of the crowd. But Dani wouldn’t take his eyes off the coffin. It seemed he was listening to something that no one else could hear.
On the way home, the boy walked in silence. When they entered, he asked for the first time in years to light a candle “for both of them.” Grandma, with tears in her eyes, placed the candle on the table next to the old icon of the Virgin Mary, the one she had received from her parents.
— “Do they come here too?” Dani asked, looking at the flame.
— “Who, little one?”
— “Mommy and daddy… They don’t leave me alone.”
In the days that followed, the boy began to speak more and more. Not about toys, not about friends from the village, but about his parents. He told how his mom sang to him at night, how his dad taught him to catch fish in the stream, how both of them were now watching him “from their place.”
Grandma listened, and although it was hard for her to believe, she felt a strange peace in his voice. One evening, while the wind was blowing outside and autumn leaves were hitting the window, Dani came next to her and said:
— “Mommy told me that you have to take care of yourself, grandma… and that when you cry, she wipes your tears.”
The woman burst into tears, but this time it was not pure pain. It was a mix of longing, love, and hope. She felt that perhaps the bond between those who had left and those who remained never truly breaks.
From then on, every evening, grandma and Dani would light two candles together. One for mom, one for dad. And even though their flames were small, the light filled the house with a warmth that neither autumn nor winter could extinguish.
Some villagers said that the boy had been “chosen” to feel more than others. Others just shook their heads, skeptical. But for grandma, every word from Dani was a gift — proof that love, once ignited, does not die even in the face of death.
And the boy, with his teddy bear always in his arms, was no longer afraid of anything. Because he knew, deep in his heart, that he was never alone.
This work is inspired by real events and people, but has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.
The author and publisher do not assume responsibility for the accuracy of events or for how characters are portrayed and are not liable for any misinterpretations. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed belong to the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.
