The Mind of an Inquisitive Child

I looked up at my mummy’s face. There was a cold breeze that tickled me as it went past. Mummy had brought me up to the very tippy-top of the building, to see the beautiful sunset. But why did she look so upset? She had told me that the sunset was a happy thing: so why was she frowning? Maybe she couldn’t see the sunset. I smiled up at her, and pointed out to the sky.

“Mummy!” I said, “Look at the pretty sky!”

“Yes, dear,” she said back, with a little smile on her face. I like it when mummy smiles. I looked out into the sky and saw the sun. But it wasn’t bright and shiny – it was many different colours. I was confused, and so was mummy – she had a frown on her face again.

“Mummy… why is the sun a strange colour?” My mummy stared out into the sky, before she turned to me. She was smiling, but she still looked upset. Maybe the sunset couldn’t make her feel better.

“Well,” she began, “You know you get sad when Mr Sun goes away?” I nodded. I don’t like the dark. “Mr Sun doesn’t like it either, you see. So, he shines lots of different colours before he goes to sleep.”

“But why?”

“Because he wants to make the whole world feel happy, so they won’t be too sad when he goes,” she told me. But why was mummy so sad? Mr Sun was trying to cheer her up, but she was still frowning.

Mummy used to cuddle me when it was dark. Mummy doesn’t like the dark either. She said that Mr Sun cries when he went to sleep, and that was why there was dew on the grass every morning. I like it when mummy tells me about Mr Sun. I like it when mummy gives me cuddles. Mummy gives the best cuddles.

But she hasn’t given me a cuddle since daddy went on a long journey. He isn’t back yet. But mummy says that we are going to meet him again really soon.

Mummy was staring out into the sky right up above us. I looked up too, and saw lots of grey.

“Mummy, what’s that grey thing up there?” I asked, pointing at it. She stared at it, then took my hand.

“Those are clouds, my dear. Do you know what’s up there, in the clouds?” I shook my head. Mummy has never told me about the clouds before. She looked upset when I said this. It made me upset too, so I gave her a cuddle. She cuddled me back, and stroked my hair.

“There’s a place up there called heaven,” she told me. I looked up there, and saw the grey cloud.

“Is it nice up there?” I asked. Could it be real? When I said this, her eyes looked watery.

“Yes, dear. It’s perfect. No nasty people go there; only nice, friendly people.” She looked down at me, and I saw that she was crying. I felt upset then. If mummy is upset, it makes me feel upset, too. I don’t like being upset.

“Mummy… did daddy go to heaven?” This time, a tear fell from her eye. Was I making her upset? Why was she crying?

“Yes, my little angel,” she said. Tears were still falling from her eyes; I didn’t understand. She said heaven is a perfect place, where only nice people go.

“Does Mr Sun go there?”

“Mr Sun is ALWAYS there, darling.” She was sniffing: she still hadn’t stopped crying. If Mr Sun was there, and only nice people lived there, why was she so sad that he had gone to heaven?

I looked back up at the cloud. It was a long way up. Daddy had got up there, and we were going to meet him soon; but was daddy going to come down and see us, or did we have to go up and see him?

“Is daddy coming down to see us soon?” I asked her. I wanted to see daddy again. I miss daddy.

“No,” was all I heard, and that made me confused.

“But I thought we were going to see daddy!”

“We are.” Mummy squeezed my hand, then moved closer to the ledge. I followed her. I remembered coming up here and looking over the ledge with daddy. It was fun, because you could see the WHOLE town from there; but daddy said that if you went too close, you might fall off. Daddy said that was a bad thing.

I looked over the ledge with mummy, and saw the town. It looked very pretty, because all the lights from the houses were shining. I like pretty things. Mummy was still holding my hand, and her eyes were red.

“Mummy, how are we going to get up to heaven?” I asked her, smiling up at her. She turned around and put her ands on my shoulders, then looked me right in the eyes.

“We’re going to fly there.” She smiled down at me. It was nice to see that she was happy. But she must be wrong.

“I can’t fly, mummy,” I told her. “My teacher said so. She said that if I tried, I would fall and hurt myself.” Then, mummy looked at me seriously.

“Don’t listen to her, my child. If she wants you to think this, she must be a nasty person. Do you know where nasty people go?” I shook my head at her. “Nasty people go down to hell,” She said, looking back up at the sky. “They can’t fly up to heaven, so they fall down to hell. Hell is dark and horrible. Only nasty people fall down to hell.”

“Mummy… will you show me how?”

“There’s nothing to it,” she told me, grasping my hand tight. “If you’re a nice person, you can fly up to heaven without even thinking about it. You can close your eyes and fly there.” She was certain, but I wasn’t sure. What if mummy was wrong? Daddy said it was a bad thing to go over the ledge.

“We’ll go on the count of three,” she said. She was ready to go to heaven, and she wanted me to come to. I stood on the ledge with her, holding her hand.

“One!” She was crying again. Why was mummy so upset? Mr Sun had gone now, and it was dark.

“Two!” Maybe that was why she was so upset. Her hand was all wet and sweaty, too. I smiled at her again, but she didn’t see: she was looking up at the sky.

“Three!”

I pulled my hand away. I watched as mummy spread out her arms like wings, ready to take off to heaven. I closed my eyes for a moment, then looked back.

I remember going to the lake with daddy and skimming stones. He said that every time they disappeared, they fell to the bottom. I looked over the ledge and saw mummy on the ground below. She had fallen to the bottom like a stone. Daddy was right: it was a bad thing to go over the ledge.

I sat there at the tippy-top of the building all night and hoped that daddy would come down and see me. I would have gone down and given mummy a cuddle, but I didn’t want to anymore.

She had tried to fly up to heaven, but she had fallen down to hell. Only nasty people fall down to hell.