The Last Letter

It was a cold December morning when Sarah opened the old wooden box she’d kept under her bed for years. Dust clung to the edges, and her hands trembled as she lifted the lid. Inside were memories she wasn’t sure she was ready to face — photographs, faded letters, and a tiny silver locket.

The house was quiet now. After her mother passed away last week, Sarah found herself alone in the big family home for the first time. She walked into her mother’s room earlier that morning, and everything was still exactly as it had been: her scarf draped over the chair, her favorite book by the nightstand, her scent still lingering in the air.

And then she saw it.

An envelope on the pillow, with her name written in her mother’s careful, slanted handwriting.

She picked it up and sat down slowly, feeling the weight of her grief press into her chest. The envelope was sealed, and on the back was written just one line: “For when you need me most.”

Tears already welling in her eyes, Sarah opened it and began to read:

"My dearest Sarah,

If you are reading this, it means my time here is over. First, I want you to know that I am okay. I am no longer in pain, and though you cannot see me anymore, my love for you has not ended.

You have been the greatest joy of my life. From the moment you came into this world with your tiny fists and loud cries, I knew you were special. You were my reason to smile even on my darkest days.

I know you are hurting now. I know you feel lost. But my darling, you are stronger than you realize. You have my strength inside you, and it will carry you through even this.

Do you remember the time you fell off your bicycle and scraped your knees? You ran home crying, and I held you until you could breathe again. Then I told you, ‘It’s okay to fall, as long as you get up.’ Life is just like that.

You will fall again, and it will hurt. But I know you — you will always get up.*

Take care of yourself. Eat well. Rest when you need to. Laugh when you can. Love deeply and forgive quickly. And never, ever forget how much I loved you.

I’ll always be with you. Just close your eyes, and I’ll be there.

With all my heart,

Mom."

By the time she reached the end of the letter, Sarah was sobbing. She clutched the paper to her chest as though she could somehow feel her mother’s embrace again.

She sat there for a long time, letting the tears fall, letting herself grieve.

And then, she noticed the locket in the box. She picked it up and opened it, revealing a tiny photograph of her mother holding her as a baby on one side, and on the other, a folded note that simply said: “For courage.”

She smiled through her tears, knowing exactly what she had to do.

Later that afternoon, she walked outside into the crisp winter air. The sun was shining weakly through the clouds, and the world felt quiet, as if waiting for her to take her first step forward.

She stood at the edge of the yard, holding the letter and the locket close to her heart.

“I’ll be okay, Mom,” she whispered. “I promise.”

And with that, she began to walk — into the cold, into the unknown, into the rest of her life — carrying her mother’s love like a light that would never go out.