Lala sat quietly on the sofa, staring out the window as the sun began to dip behind the rooftops. Her day had been ordinary—chores, a short walk, and a little rest—but lately, she had been feeling weaker than usual. She didn’t want to worry anyone, so she kept her discomfort to herself. After all, she had always been the strong one, the one who smiled even when her body was tired.
Just as she was about to close her eyes, her phone rang. The screen lit up with a name she hadn’t expected—Mom. Lala blinked in surprise, her heart skipping a beat. They rarely spoke on the phone unless it was for something important. With trembling fingers, she answered, “Hello, Mom?”
On the other end came her mother’s gentle voice, filled with warmth. “Lala, how are you feeling? I’ve been worried. Are you taking care of yourself?”
The question caught Lala off guard. For a moment, she was silent, her eyes stinging with unexpected tears. She had been longing for someone to ask, for someone to notice the quiet battles she was fighting. “I… I’m okay, Mom,” she whispered, her voice breaking just slightly.
Her mother didn’t press, but her words carried comfort. “Don’t forget, your health is more important than anything else. Rest when you need to. Eat well. And remember, you’re never alone—I’m always here.”
Lala smiled through her tears, clutching the phone close as if it were her mother’s hand. That simple call, so full of love, eased the weight she had been carrying. It reminded her that no matter how grown-up she became, she was still her mother’s child, still someone deeply cared for.
When the call ended, the room felt brighter. Lala leaned back, her heart lighter than it had been in weeks. Sometimes, she thought, the greatest healing doesn’t come from medicine, but from the voice of someone who truly cares.
