Little Lyly is always full of energy, bouncing around the house, climbing anything she can reach, and finding ways to make everyone laugh. But deep down, she is also a tender soul who loves her mother more than anything. Every evening, Lyly knows there is a special time when her mother returns home, and together they go to the shrine room to offer prayers and light incense. It’s a moment of peace, a small ritual that has become part of Lyly’s daily routine with her mom.
On this particular day, Lyly was unusually quiet. She wandered into the shrine room carrying a tiny blanket and sat down on the cool floor, gazing at the candles and flowers her mother had placed there earlier. She seemed to be waiting—ears twitching every time she thought she heard footsteps. She wanted to share that moment with her mother, to sit together in the calm, glowing space.
But as the hours passed, Lyly’s little body grew heavy with sleep. She curled up near the altar, resting her chin on her hands, eyes fluttering as she fought to stay awake. She waited and waited, determined to see her mother come through the door. Yet the warmth of the room and the soft flicker of candlelight lulled her into slumber. Soon, she was fast asleep in the shrine room, her tiny breaths rising and falling peacefully.
When her mother finally returned home, she found Lyly there—curled up like a small child, surrounded by the gentle quiet of the sacred space. Her heart melted at the sight. Carefully, she scooped Lyly into her arms, whispering softly, “I’m home, my sweet one.” Though Lyly was too deep in sleep to hear, she stirred just enough to snuggle closer.
In that moment, the shrine room became more than a place of prayer—it became a place of love, patience, and the sweetest reminder of how deeply Lyly longed to be close to her mother.
