Called by Love When No One Else Is

The crowd moves fast, a river of coats and hurried feet, and you are smiling the way the morning demands. Then a child's voice cuts through the noise—sharp, bright, needing something—and your body turns before your mind can catch up.

For a second, you are ready to answer. Ready to be the one they call.

Then the memory hits: there is no one there. No one needs you in that way anymore.

The silence that follows is heavier than the noise. But the light sees the space where that voice should be.

It knows the ache of turning around to nothing. And it whispers the truth you cannot speak aloud: you are still being called.

Not by a child who isn't there, but by the Love that never left. The mask can stay on for now.

The light sees what's behind it.