She carefully tended to her little flower garden with a sweet tune. Looking out the window was her still little girl who stared unblinkingly as the mother feeling discontent, discreetly waved. Her heart was not as cheerful as it was a moment ago. Going back to her simple house, she tended to her silent spouse who, just like the other day, was sitting in the dining hall not even touching his now cold cup of coffee. Again she sighed but tried to keep positive. Her husband and daughter needn’t see their wife and mother filled with sorrow and grief. The woman retired to the easy chair in the living room where her mother once sat and began to knit a pair of gloves for her pale young one. Tears made their way yet again to this woman’s face as she knitted for her dearest ones who seemed to be far from her reach. This was too much for her to take. Putting down her needles and yarn, she approached the pale childlike figure who still sat by the window. She combed the hair of the little one and tried to talk to her unresponsive beloved, but as usual the only answer was silence. This once cheerful home turned still and silent in one trip to the mall. She was at home that night when she received news, but she refused to accept it although she already knew the truth in herself. Trying to hold back the pain, she began to sing that sweet little tune she used to hum to both husband and daughter.
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