She had lost her eldest child in a tragic accident. I visited her several times after this shock. Now she was alone with her three younger children, having emigrated from an oriental country. My mother had knitted socks for the younger children. One Sunday, I brought these gifts over. We drank a cup of tea together. More and more, her desperate feelings came bursting out. I listened – for many hours. I held out with her through this endless pain. When I left, she said, ‘This is really hard for you too. Because you can't just shake off shared pain like this. But thank you. My heart feels lighter now!’
