A young girl the age of six gazes at her mother's pale, sickly face. She leans against her mother, and watches her as a painter would watch his muse. Her mother is silently reading a wrinkled newspaper. They are both in danger of falling asleep; the couch upon which they sit is soothing to both of them. A long, hard day at work for the mother and a seemingly short, fun day full of learning for the young girl is enough to make them both easily inclined to sleep. However, the young girl is full of questions and she is determined to ask them. The problem is that she doesn't know where to start. Not many of us do when we don't know where our questions will take us.
Finally, she finds the courage to begin.
“Mommy, why are you so sick?”
There is a short, uneasy silence in which the mother pauses in turning a page of her newspaper.
“Because I have cancer, sweetie," the mother tiredly responds.
“But Mommy,” the girl persists, “why are you the one sick?”
“Because I am one of the unlucky ones, I guess.”
“So Daddy and I are lucky?” the girl wonders.
The mother looks down at her innocent, young daughter and hesitates. “Well, as far as I know, yes.”
“Well why can’t we give some of our luck to you?”
“It’s your luck, honey. You can’t just give it away," the mother sighs.
“Oh.” The girl has a distant look in her hazel eyes. “I see.”
“Do you?” the mother asks softly.
The girl doesn’t seem to hear her. “But Mommy, what’s going to happen to you?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“What do you think will happen?”
The mother breathes in slowly. “Well, there’s a chance that I may die."
“You might die?!” the girl asks shocked.
“Yes, but don’t worry. I will be with God.”
“That’s a good thing, right?” the girl asks concerned. Her eyes are swimming with sympathy.
The mother smiles. “Yes. God keeps me safe.”
“That’s good.”
“Yes, and you can talk to him anytime you want, sweet pea. He keeps all of His children safe.”
The girl smiles and then hugs her mother. “No matter what, I will always love you, and you will always be my Mommy.”
A tear is brought to the mother’s eye. “I love you too.”
Finally, she finds the courage to begin.
“Mommy, why are you so sick?”
There is a short, uneasy silence in which the mother pauses in turning a page of her newspaper.
“Because I have cancer, sweetie," the mother tiredly responds.
“But Mommy,” the girl persists, “why are you the one sick?”
“Because I am one of the unlucky ones, I guess.”
“So Daddy and I are lucky?” the girl wonders.
The mother looks down at her innocent, young daughter and hesitates. “Well, as far as I know, yes.”
“Well why can’t we give some of our luck to you?”
“It’s your luck, honey. You can’t just give it away," the mother sighs.
“Oh.” The girl has a distant look in her hazel eyes. “I see.”
“Do you?” the mother asks softly.
The girl doesn’t seem to hear her. “But Mommy, what’s going to happen to you?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“What do you think will happen?”
The mother breathes in slowly. “Well, there’s a chance that I may die."
“You might die?!” the girl asks shocked.
“Yes, but don’t worry. I will be with God.”
“That’s a good thing, right?” the girl asks concerned. Her eyes are swimming with sympathy.
The mother smiles. “Yes. God keeps me safe.”
“That’s good.”
“Yes, and you can talk to him anytime you want, sweet pea. He keeps all of His children safe.”
The girl smiles and then hugs her mother. “No matter what, I will always love you, and you will always be my Mommy.”
A tear is brought to the mother’s eye. “I love you too.”
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