"Mom?" the little girl called her mother as she innocently stared at her.
Her mother looked at her and nodded, urging her to speak.
"Why is it hard for people to understand you, mom?" the girl asked.
Her mother stared at the innocent eyes of her daughter, and smiled. She grabbed a pen and a paper before she started writing.
'Because I can't speak.' That was what her mother wrote.
The little girl got confused. "But I can understand you," she claimed.
Her mother started writing again.
'That is because you know me well, and you're willing to understand me, no matter what.'
The girl nodded after seeing her response as if she understood the message behind those common words.
"When will they understand you?" she asked again.
Her mother sadly smiled. She had no idea why her daughter was suddenly asking those kind of questions, but she answered them anyway.
'When they start to learn how to close their mouths and open their hearts and minds. When they start to understand that this is my reality and learn to accept it like how I accepted this long ago. When they learn how to stop judging my weakness and dragging me down because of what I can't do. When they learn to let me live like a normal person.'
The daughter looked at her mother's face— innocent but with understanding— after reading her mother's last response; 'When they start being human again.'
She hugged her mother and whispered, "They will, mom. I know they will be."