Is there a writer in u? Or are you in a mood to read some short interesting stories? Here's the Story Section for all tastes.

On the last day before Christmas, I hurried to go to the store to buy the
remaining gifts I didn't manage to buy earlier.

When I saw all the people there, I started to complain to myself. It is
going to take forever here and I still have so many other places to go...
Christmas really is getting more and more annoying every year. How I wish I
could just lie down, go to sleep and only wake up after it...

Nonetheless, I made my way to the toy section, and there I started to curse
the prices, wondering if all kids really play with such expensive toys.

While looking in the toy section, I noticed a small boy of about 5 years
old, pressing a doll against his chest. He kept on touching the hair of the
doll and looked so sad. I wondered who was this doll for. Then the little
boy turned to the old woman next to him and said: Granny, are you sure I
don't have enough money?

The old lady replied: You know that you don't have enough money to buy this
doll, my dear. Then she asked him to stay here for 5 minutes while she went
to look around. She left quickly.

The little boy was still holding the doll in his hand. Finally, I started to
walk toward him and I asked him who did he want to give this doll to. It is
the doll that my sister loved most and wanted so much for this Christmas.
She was so sure that Santa Claus would bring it to her

I replied to him that maybe Santa Claus will bring it to her, after all, and
not to worry. But he replied to me sadly. No, Santa Claus cannot bring it to
her where she is now. I have to give the doll to my mother so that she can
give it to her when she goes there.

His eyes were so sad while saying this.

My sister has gone to be with God. Daddy said that Mommy will also go to see
God very soon, so I thought that she could bring the doll with her to give
it to my sister.

My heart nearly stopped.

The little boy looked up at me and said: I told daddy to tell mommy not to
go yet. I asked him to wait until I come back from the store.

Then he showed me a very nice photo of him where he was laughing. He then
told me: I also want mommy to take this photo with her so that she will not forget me.

I love my mommy and I wish she didn't have to leave me but daddy says that
she has to go to be with my little sister.

Then he looked again at the doll with sad eyes, very quietly.

I quickly reached for my wallet and took a few dollars out and said to the
boy. What if we checked again, just in case, to see if you have enough money?

OK he said. I hope that I have enough

I added some of my money to his without him seeing and we started to count
it. There was enough for the doll, and even some spare money.

The little boy said: Thank you God for giving me enough money.

Then he looked at me and added: I asked yesterday before I slept for God to
make sure I have enough money to buy this doll so that mommy can give it to
my sister. He heard me

I also wanted to have enough money to buy a white rose for my mommy, but I
didn't dare to ask God for too much. But He gave me enough to buy the doll
and the white rose. You know, my mommy loves white roses.

A few minutes later, the old lady came again and I left.

I finished my shopping in a totally different state from when I started. I
couldn't get the little boy out of my mind.

Then I remembered a local newspaper article 2 days ago, which mentioned of a
drunk man in a truck who hit a car where there was one young lady and a
little girl.

The little girl died right away, and the mother was left in a critical
state. The family had to decide whether to pull the plug on the
life-assisting machine, because the young lady would not be able to get out
of the coma.

Was this the family of the little boy?

Two days after this encounter with the little boy, I read in the newspaper
that the young lady had passed

I couldn't stop myself and went to buy a bunch of white roses and I went to
the mortuary where the body of the young woman was exposed for people to see
before burial.

She was there, in her coffin, holding a beautiful white rose in her hand
with the photo of the little boy and the doll placed over her

I left the place crying, feeling that my life had been changed

The love that this little boy had for his mother and his sister is still, to
this day, hard to imagine.

And in a fraction of a second, a drunk man had taken all this away from