Children nowadays play with technology. It’s quiet this way. Only the adults are noisy from telling stories, asking too many questions, laughing and plenty of dark jokes targeted at you. One has to have broad shoulders to deflect shady puns and be quick to retort.
My siblings are ready to play and have a plan at hand. They have all the time on this world to play for they are retired. Me still being a working person, I cannot participate but just enjoy the ride.
The plan is for my sister Niki from Las Vegas to visit Vancouver and surprise my sister Susan on her 70th birthday.
We were very quiet about this event. But don’t surprise a birthday celebrant holding a hammer.
It’s all good. Nobody was harmed. She used the hammer to build the train station and decorate the surroundings of her house.
With all the excitement, adults need their uninterrupted rest, especially at their age in preparation for the big day, the following day. We all went home early except for Niki who stayed with Susan.
Niki fell asleep in the family room.
All was quiet until the sound of the children playing in the living room awakened her in the middle of the night.
Being in an unfamiliar place, she got up to hush the children and make sure that they go to bed. But there are no children in the house nor was anyone in the living room.
Still, with a foggy head, she went back to deep slumber only to be awakened again by the sound of the children playing. Again, she checked the living room, the room is empty.
The following day as the adults gather on the roundtable with Niki telling stories about her eventful night, Susan finally told us a story.
When Mother was still alive, she stayed with Susan when she was sick.
On her second night, she heard the children playing in the living room but being sick she remained laying on the couch with closed eyes. Then she felt a tiny soft hand touched her forehead.
The following day, she woke up feeling better and went home.
This is the first time I’ve heard of the story. I would have loved to ask Mother and know what it feels like to be touched by a child’s hand.
In my sister’s living room, I have indicated in my previous post that her house is just like a kindergarten school with images of Infant Jesus of Prague in different sizes.
Oral stories like this in my family, I try to document them for the younger generations. I know it’s unbelievable for them right now since their main focus in life is a career.
One day, we are hoping faith will become the center of their life.