The stories I'll like to share with us is emotional, but try to read till the end, so you could learn one or two things from this story.
On the edge of a small village, in a house that creaked with every passing breeze, live a woman named Amma Grace. She was known for her laughter, a sound so full of life that it could make even the saddest heart smile. Her little house was always warm, always welcoming. The scent of her freshly baked bread often lingered in the air, and her stories, oh, her stories, they could hold on entire room spellbound
Amma Grace lived alone, but her home was never empty. Neighbors, children, strangers passing by, everyone find a reason to stop and share a moment with her. In the corner of her living room stood and old wooden chair, worn smooth by time. No one ever sat in it, though. It's wasn't just a chair, it was a memory
The chair had belonged to her son, David. He was her only child, her world. He has her eyes dark and thoughtful, and her laughter, bright and contagious. David was a dreamer. He wanted to travel to the world, see places Amma Grace could only describe through the tales she read him as a boy
One day, David came to her with excitement bubbling in his voice. He had been offered a job abroad, a chance to chase his dreams. Amma Grace smiled through the ache in her chest. "Go, my boy" she said. "The world is waiting for you". For years later, letter came from David, beautiful letter filled with stories of bustling cities, quiet mountains, and people Amma Grace would never meet. Each one brought joy, but also an ache, a longing to hold her do just once more
Then one day the letters stopped
At first, Amma Grace thought it was the mail. Maybe it got lost, or he was busy. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months. The silence grew heavy, and worry settled in her chest like a stone. Finally a letter arrive, but it wasn't from David. It was from a friend who had been with him. David had fallen sick far from home. He fought, the friend wrote, but he didn't make it. The world around Amma Grace seemed to crumble. She read the letter over and over, tears blurring the words. Her boy, her David, was gone.
For weeks, the chair in the corner sat untouched, gathering dust. Amma Grace couldn't bear to look at it. But one morning, as the sun spilled through the Windows, she found herself standing before it. Slowly, she reached out and ran her fingers along the smooth wood. Memories of David came flooding back, the way he'll sit there, talking about his dreams, his laughter, filling the room. She sat down, the chair creaking softly under her weight. And for the first time in months,she allow herself to smile through the tears.
From the day on, Amma Grace begin telling David stories. She shares his dreams, his adventures, and his kindness with anyone who would listen. The chair became more than just a piece of furniture; it became symbol of love, loss, and the courage to keep living. Years passed and Amma Grace grew older. One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, she sat in the chair, her hand resting on her lap. The house was quiet, but it was a peaceful quiet. She closed her eyes, and for a moment, she swore she could hear David's laughter, feel his presence. Wheb the neighbors found her the next morning, she was still in the chair, a gentle smile on her face. They buried her next to David, under the big oak tree at the edge of the village. The chair remained in her home, untouched, a testament to a life full of love, loss and resilience
And even now when the wind blows through the village, it carries with it, the faint echo of Amma Grace laughter, a reminder that life, though fragile, is filled with moment worth holding onto. I hope this my stories touches some places in your heart? And also reflect in your life!!!
