Today for the first time I had a strange conversation with my 3 year-old grand-daughter Mirl, in the succa. She heard a baby crying in an appartment above and asked:
- Where is his mother?
- The baby's mother is right next to him, she is comforting him, I answered.
One minute passed and the baby cried again and Mirl asked again:
- Where is his mother?
- She is with him.
- I don't hear her, said Mirl.
- But she is there, I said.
- Are you sure? Enquired the 3 year-old.
- Yes , I am sure.
- But I don't hear her voice.
- Even when you don't hear her voice, a mother is here.
Mirl laughed and laughed. But I did not. I was saying to myself "And when a mother is gone, you still hear her voice".
Nathalie
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