…Little Sofia suddenly stopped crying. Her tiny hand pointed once more at the coffin — but this time, her voice was calm. Almost certain.
“Daddy said he’s not inside. He’s standing by the door… waiting for us to go.”
A chill rippled through the mourners.
Gasps echoed in the silence. Some turned toward the church doors instinctively, eyes wide. Ana froze. Her heart pounded in her chest. Sofia had never spoken like that before. The priest dropped his prayer book.
Then the little girl smiled faintly through her tears. “He says not to cry, Mama. He kissed my cheek and said we’ll see him again.”
Tears flooded Ana’s eyes. She collapsed to her knees, overwhelmed — not with sorrow, but with peace. For the first time in days, her chest loosened, her breath steady. She hugged Sofia tightly, whispering, “Thank you, my love.”
That night, many who were there said they felt something — a breeze, a presence, a warmth near the church doors.
Lesson: Sometimes children see what our pain blinds us to — the truth that love never really dies. And maybe… just maybe, the ones we’ve lost aren’t as far as we think.
