I wrote this short story a couple of years ago, yet unfinished:
“Mother, mother!” cried little Al as he rushed into the kitchen of the humble little home, almost knocking over the piles of freshly folded clothing sitting in piles all about. “Don’t let them hurt me!” and grabbing her dress he climbed around her to hide himself in it. Mother, as surprised as could be, nearly jumped when he first yelled. “What is it, my son? Who is trying to hurt you?” And little sister, sitting in the high chair, jumped and then began to giggle. As the moments crept by and no one else entered the room; Mother soon began again her combing of a little princess’ hair. Al did not come out, or let go of her dress, but was frightened as could be. Soon the littlest one was lifted from her chair and set upon her chubby little feet, though she did not go away but seeing her brother went to share in his hiding place. Mother turned and crouched wrapping her arms around her son with a warmth that all children to angels know. “What is it, no one is here, who was chasing you?” He looked up into her smile, and her calm, sweet voice and beautiful bright eyes took the fear out of him and he relaxed into her arms. But as he began to speak, he tensed up and grabbing his mother tight and rather shouted, “Ghosts, mother, ghosts! The neighbor boy told me that ghosts were after me and all around me!”. “Oh”, the mother calmly smiled, while quietly whispering a prayer of thanks as well as for help to instruct her little son on so great a subject. “There is nothing to fear from ghosts my dear, for they cannot harm you without your help.” Puzzled, Al stopped, looked up at his mother with questions in his eyes, he let go of her, and pondered for what seemed to him quite a while. Mother, seeing his puzzled eyes and rumpled nose, then said “Help us finish putting away your clothing, and I will tell you about these ghosts” As he was walking with the last bundle in his arms he began thinking of the times that he heard of a ghost talked about in Sunday school. He returned to his mother and asked “What is the Holy Ghost?” She smiled, and took his hand and walked to her chair, and sitting him and his sister beside her began:
“Ghosts are spirits of people. We cannot see them because we have bodies, but they can see us and are all around us. Even you have a spirit in you, a ghost that is you. It was you even before you had a body that we can all see. You were a child of Heavenly Father and Mother as a spirit before you became my child in your body.” Much more puzzled the boy asked, “Can I come out of me?” “Well, my sweet little boy, your ghost was out of your body for a very long time before you got in, and you must go out again someday, but you just got in, and so I suggest you stay”
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My heart has ached from the moment I heard what was happening to the children and mothers. Although I do not know any of you, my heart is with you. I cry each time I read about what is going on with the children and mothers. This is just to much on the children. I pray the spark is able to be returned to the children once they are reunited with their mothers. I pray the mothers will find strength in a long battle ahead. I pray that soon the children and mothers will be able to sleep peacefully and never worry about being torn apart again.
The images of the crying children is just to much on the heart. So much I do not understand as I am certain the same holds true for the children and mothers. I do pray that the mothers understand that so many of us have prayed with you, even though you didn’t know. So many of us care about you and the children, so please remember this in the future and try to update us on how the children and mothers are doing. I know you are private people but so many of us also need our hearts to heal along with yours from this nightmare.
My tears flow along with yours, my prayers are with you as is my heart.
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