A grieving mother mourned her beloved young son, who passed away suddenly. Her endless tears caused his spirit to appear, revealing that her sorrow dampened his shroud, preventing his rest. One night, the child, now dry and at peace, urged her to accept his fate. Moved, she ceased weeping, embracing patience and faith, allowing her son to finally rest peacefully in his grave.
Source
Folk-lore and Legends: German
Printed by T. and A. Constable, Printers to Her Majesty, at the Edinburgh University Press
W.W. Gibbings, London, 1892
► Themes of the story
Loss and Renewal: The mother’s journey through grief to acceptance signifies the universal experience of loss and the subsequent emotional renewal.
Ancestral Spirits: The appearance of the child’s spirit reflects the connection between the living and the departed, emphasizing the influence of ancestral presences.
Moral Lessons: The narrative imparts the lesson that excessive mourning can hinder the peace of departed loved ones, encouraging acceptance and emotional resilience.
Learn more about German Folklore
There was once a woman who had a little son of about seven years old, who was so lovely and beautiful that no one could look upon him without being kind to him, and he was dearer to her than all the world beside. It happened that he suddenly fell ill and died, and his mother would not be comforted, but wept for him day and night. Shortly after he was buried he showed himself at night in the places where he had been used in his lifetime to sit and play, and if his mother wept, he wept also, and when the morning came he departed. Since his mother never ceased weeping, the child came one night in the little white shroud in which he had been laid in his coffin, and with the chaplet upon his head, and seating himself at her feet, upon the bed, he cried:
► Continue reading…
“O mother, mother, give over crying, else I cannot stop in my coffin, for my shroud is never dry because of your tears, for they fall upon it.”
When his mother heard this she was sore afraid, and wept no more. And the babe came upon another night, holding in his hand a little taper, and he said–
“Look, mother, my shroud is now quite dry, and I can rest in my grave.”
Then she bowed to the will of Providence, and bore her sorrow with silence and patience, and the little child returned not again, but slept in his underground bed.
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Dreamtime Whispers 