The widower decided to install a camera to learn the truth after seeing that all of the flowers he had placed on his wife’s grave were constantly vanishing. He was appalled by what he saw.
The widower had already lost his wife six months prior. His life had lost its purpose. Her perfume, which was still in the air, her scarf on the rack, and her cup in the kitchen were all reminders of her every morning when he woke up in an empty apartment.
However, Sunday emerged as the most significant ritual. He carried red roses, the same roses she had loved during her live, to the grave every week. As though talking to her, he set them down by the grave and sat there for a while.
But for three weeks in a row, he noticed something odd: his wife’s flowers were vanished. Just gone, not withered, not thrown away.
Desperate, he approached the cemetery guard:
Have you not noticed who is stealing the flowers from this cemetery, I ask you?
The elderly man gave a shrug.
– No one has been sighted. It’s also none of my concern. You will have to find out for yourself if you wish to know.
The widower understood that he would need to take independent action. He purchased a little camera and placed it next to the tomb. When he listened the recording back that night, he froze in disbelief.
A young girl, perhaps eight years old, emerged on the screen. She approached the cemetery, picked up the bouquet, and fled. However, the camera didn’t show where or why.
The man repeatedly listened to the recording in an attempt to understand it, but he was unable to do so. Why would a kid steal flowers from someone else?
He suffered from this for the entire week.
The following Sunday, he returned with a bouquet. He spotted her, the same girl, all of a sudden. She had old, faded roses in her hands as she stood at a nearby cemetery. The widower came cautiously closer:
— Little one Are the flowers taken from this tomb by you?
The youngster became scared and attempted to flee, but he calmly intervened.
— Don’t worry, I’m not upset. Tell me, please, why.
The girl whispered, lowering her head:
— This is my younger brother. In the spring, he passed away. Flowers are beyond Mom’s means. However, I don’t want him to lie here by himself. I assumed that taking flowers from the woman from the lovely tomb wouldn’t bother her.
It hurt the widower’s heart. He didn’t know what to say and remained silent for a while.
He brought two bouquets the next time. For his wife, one. One more for the boy. The girl’s eyes glowed with delight when she saw this.
With the flowers pressed against her chest, she replied, “Thank you, sir.” He will never be by himself again.
