When the stars listen

In a quiet town nestled among the hills, lived a little boy named Arman and his mother, who worked day and night to give him a better life. Arman never knew his father—only that he had gone away before Arman could speak. Every night, his mother would tell him stories about how brave and kind his father was.

Arman would often write letters to his father, folding each one neatly and placing it under his pillow, hoping somehow they'd reach him. His mother never stopped him. She would quietly take each letter after he slept and place them all in a box hidden under her bed.

Years passed, and one cold winter, Arman's mother fell seriously ill. Her once strong hands now trembled, and her laughter faded into silence. On her last night, she gave Arman a small wooden box. “Open it when you're ready,” she whispered.

After her funeral, Arman sat in their quiet house, his heart broken. He opened the box. Inside were all his letters, carefully kept—and one envelope he had never seen before. It was sealed and had his name on it.

With trembling fingers, he opened it. It was from his mother.

"My dear Arman,

Your father never left because he wanted to. He died in an accident before you were born. I didn’t want you to grow up in sadness, so I gave you his love through stories and hope. Your letters brought me strength every day.

If you’re reading this, I’m no longer there. But know this: you were, and always will be, the greatest gift of my life. Keep writing, dreaming, and loving. He and I are both with you—always.

With all my love,

Mama."

Tears rolled down Arman's cheeks as he held the letter to his heart. He looked up at the stars that night and whispered, “I hope both of you got my letters.”