That child will become my savior

My time has remained frozen since that day.
My son, smiling within the cold memorial photograph, will never call me 'Mama' again.
He was ten years old.
I could only hold his all-too-short life in my arms.
Meanwhile, the small soul that slipped from those arms is still worrying about me in a place I do not know.
This is a sad yet magnificent story of love, woven by those left behind, those who have departed, and the invisible fate that connects them both.
In the depths of despair, what will we find, and what will we come to know?

✅ It seems I have passed away...

My last memory is of feeling my body suddenly become light.
Before me, I can see my mother breaking down in tears.
She does not move from in front of the small altar where my photo is displayed, not even for a moment all day.
It seems I am no longer in this world.
Everyone was crying, saying my death was 'too soon'.
Ten years old.
It certainly seems I have arrived at a distant place much sooner than everyone in my class.

It seems I am now in a state that everyone calls a 'soul'.
I have no physical weight, but my mother's sadness resonates heavily in my heart.
Sometimes, a person who feels very important gently calls out to me, saying, 'Come this way now'.
That is the person whom the living call 'God'.
I know I have to go soon.
But when I see my mother like that, I just cannot bring myself to move.
When I told God, 'I will stay here until Mama smiles at least a little,' God smiled as if troubled and waited for me quietly.

Strangely, since I died, I have come to understand many things.
For example, about my father, who suddenly disappeared when I was five.
Mama never said anything, but Papa was ill, and he went far away alone because he did not want to make Mama sad.
And he had been watching over me and Mama from the sky all this time.
Now I understand.
Papa was waiting for me to come here.
But, I am sorry, Papa.
Please let me stay by Mama's side just a little longer.
Mama's tears bind my heart to this place and will not let me go.

✅ What could I have done for that child?

The cheerful voice saying, 'I'm going out to play!' still echoes deep in my ears.
That became the child's last words.
A few steps after opening the front door, the screeching sound of brakes and a dull impact shattered my daily life into pieces.
The doctor comforted me by saying, 'It was instantaneous. He did not suffer,' but I cannot express how much those words carved into my heart.
He did not suffer?
If that is true, does it mean that the pain, that suffering, must all be borne by me, his mother?

I am terrified that the warmth of that child, his scent, and the feel of his soft hair are fading day by day.
That is why I cannot leave the front of this memorial photograph.
If I am here, I feel as if he is right beside me.
Occasionally, my younger sister brings me food out of concern.
She cries with me while bringing a spoon to my mouth, saying, 'Big sister, you have to eat'.
That kindness is the only chain barely keeping me tethered to this world.

When night comes, waves of regret wash over me.
Why couldn't I have said 'be careful' more firmly that day?
Why didn't I make him play inside the house?
I should have fed him more delicious things.
I should have told him more often that I loved him.
As a mother, what on earth could I have done for that child?
Rather than what I was able to do, only the things I could not do race through my mind, and questions without answers continue to torment me in the darkness.
Is there an end to this sadness?

✅ The great power of the invisible me

I am the existence that humans call 'God'.
I am the one who called for that child's life.
No, to be precise, through me, the great will that governs this universe called him.
The mother's sadness reaches my heart painfully as well.
However, this much must be conveyed.
That the child's death is by no means meaningless.

The child's soul is not preparing to be reborn next.
His next 'life' is outside the cycle of reincarnation that humans imagine.
It is ordained that he will become an existence called a 'God' of a higher order, equal to me—no, far surpassing me.
The purity of his soul and his deep love for his mother are the sources that will lift him to those heights.

In the not-too-distant future, this universe will face an unprecedented crisis.
It is a calamity of a different dimension that human wisdom and science cannot possibly contend with.
At that time, it is that child, who has become a God, who will save the people and the universe itself.
He will transform the unconditional love he received from his mother into power and become a shield to protect all life.

Therefore, mother, just cry for now.
For those tears are the holy proof that you raised a savior.
Your sadness will eventually be sublimated into a great light that illuminates the universe.
Even if you cannot see it now, the child's great power is already right beside you.
And someday, that power will save the universe and, in turn, will warmly melt even your frozen heart.
To you, who have no way of knowing the truth beyond despair yet, I can only quietly stay by your side.

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