Taking away pain

She held him as he cried, whispering, “I’d take all your pain if I could.” Her words, earnest and full of love, floated into the void and found an unseen ear.

The next morning, as he stumbled, she felt a sharp pain in her knee. Confused at first, she soon realized her wish had been granted. "See, all better," she comforted him, hiding her bruise with a smile.

And when illness took him, it was she who shivered and ached. "You're okay, my love," she reassured him.

But as he grew, so did his boldness, his world free from the sting of consequences. "Be careful," she'd say, but each warning fell on deaf ears. Without the memory of pain, caution meant nothing to him.

And as she faced the consequences of his stumbles again and again, him learning nothing, she realized that the greater sacrifice wasn’t in freeing him from pain, but watching him suffer it.