When the shadow of death is on the home and takes away a dear son, our thoughts immediately turn to the parents.

How will the maternal heart bear the pain? How will get to be strong the paternal heart?

And, almost always, the siblings of the departed one are not remembered. If they are small, children, it seems that the concept is that for them that is not so serious.

It is explained that the little brother has made a distant journey, went to meet Jesus. Or he has become a star and is illuminating the sky.

Or, yet, he is living with his guard angel.

However, the bond between siblings are, sometimes, very strong and lead children to think about the little brother, or little sisters, wondering:

Are there toys where they are? The little brother will miss the teddy bear he always played with?

Does he miss his warm blanket, pacifier, feeding-bottle, his bike?

Perhaps thinking about similar things, a girl has written a letter to her little sister who died before the age of five:

Do you remember the little stones you stepped on, you felt under your little feet and liked it?

Do you remember the little flowers you watered, you smelled?

Do you remember the stars, baby? Remember the moon in the pole on the street? You looked at it, thought it was so beautiful and got enchanted.

Remember the way you saw fun through pain?

Remember that laughter you shared and all the revolts it dismounted?

Remember the words you spoke? Do you remember, my dear?

Remember the little song that you sang, and how many letters and words you invented?

Remember the coffee and lunch, served with love, to all your little friends with your grandpa?

Remember the beautiful stories grandma told and all the nails that your sister painted?

Remember how many hours we spent together?

Remember the dollhouse that daddy put together and the good times it provided?

Remember, my dear, who took care of you? And everyone who helped, at home, in the hospital?

Remember, in the last hour, who kissed your cheeks, your little face? Remember who hold your little hands?

Remember the prayer? The tears of pain? Would they have hurt you? But, it has already  passed, right?

It was the stream of our longing overflowing our eyes, like a waterfall that seemed endless.

Remember the games that you liked? Do you remember playing, my love?

Remember the castle, honey, you imagined, that after both of us building so many times, became so real? Remember the Christmas tree, the colorful fairy lights and stuff?

And the spade, the watering can, the sand you sifted?

Remember the little shells of many sizes you collected, put on your bed and showed me?

Yeah. I remember it all, baby. I remember a lot, hoping that my memories come to your heart and you remember too.

This is good for my longing. It should be good for yours too.

And I hope that during the night, when I go to sleep, I can get to meet you and we can hug each other again.

Maybe we can, together, again, enjoy some romp. We can play in the clouds or in the gardens of the Spiritual world.

I miss you a lot, little sister. Until suddenly!

Spiritist Moment Team, with some
sentences of Marina Costa Macedo.
March 22.2016.