Late one night, a little boy came downstairs in tears.
His mother looked at him with concern and asked,
“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”
The boy sniffled and said,
“Is it true that people are made from dust, like they told us in church?”
His mother smiled gently.
“In a way, yes.”
“And when people die, do they turn back into dust?”
“Yes,” she replied. “That’s what we’re taught.”
The little boy’s eyes grew wide, and he started crying even harder.
His mother hugged him and asked,
“Why are you so upset?”
The boy pointed upstairs and whispered,
“Because there’s someone under my bed who’s either coming… or going!”