“I just want to go home, Mommy…” — The voice of little Gus lost in the wind

I don’t remember how far I’ve gone.
It was just a sunny afternoon, the wind was gentle, and I wanted to see what was behind that little hill.
I thought if I found a pretty stone, Mommy would say I was a good boy.

I walked, and walked again.
The tall grass brushed against my hands, and somewhere, I heard crickets sing. Everything felt fun at first — until I turned around… and the house was gone.

I called out:

“Mommy! I’m here!”

No one answered.
Only the wind replied, shaking the leaves — it sounded like a sigh.

Then I started to feel scared.
I missed Mommy’s dinner, Daddy’s laugh, and Buddy — my little teddy bear I’d left on my bed.
I thought Mommy would be mad if I came home late.
But I didn’t mean to get lost. I just want to go home.

I found a little stream. The water was clear.
I bent down and saw my dirty face staring back at me.
I smiled a little and whispered:

“Wait for me, Mommy.”

The night came so fast.
I sat down, hugging my knees, my tummy growling.
I didn’t know what time it was — I only knew the moon was bright, round, and glowing like the light in our living room.
I tried to imagine Mommy turning it on, waiting for me to come home.

The wind blew harder.
I pulled my shirt tight and tried not to cry.
I remembered what Mommy always said:

“If you’re scared, sing. I’ll hear you.”

So I sang, quietly:

“Sleep, my child, the night has come…”

I don’t know if anyone heard me.
But I hope Mommy did — through the wind, through her dreams, through every prayer whispered by the grown-ups.

If someone finds my footprints tomorrow, they’ll know I was here.
I didn’t go far… I was just trying to find my way home.