The Mother sits on the lakeshore and watches her children play among the waves. The book she brought for her own entertainment to the beach rests untouched in her lap. The sun’s rays are increasingly burning her arm and shoulder, yet she doesn’t reach for the sunscreen in the basket lying next to her camping chair. She doesn’t take her eyes off her son and daughter, who are frolicking carefree in the waves, laughing and squealing. How small and fragile they are. Despite the water reaching only to an adult’s knees, the Mother constantly worries about the children. She can’t tear her gaze away from them, even though deep down she knows they can’t come to any harm. But doubt is always there. What if she doesn’t pay attention for just a moment? What if that moment is when something bad happens? Something terrible that leads to tragedy. Despite the sweltering midday sun, she shudders. They’re just playing! Don’t worry! The mother tries to reassure herself. You can’t always be with them! Look how happy they are! Enjoy their joy! The Mother suppresses the soothing thoughts. She cannot rest while there is any danger of an accidental mishap. What is play for them is a dangerous activity for me. A cheerful adventure for them, a frightening peril for me. I surround their carefree spirits with my vigilance. This is what I must do. The Mother relaxes but doesn’t take her eyes off the splashing children. She smiles as she watches the boy and girl play.

‘Mom! Mom, look!’ the boy’s cheerful laughter rings out. ‘I caught an eel! It was swimming by my feet, and I caught it!’

‘Ew, it’s so slimy and disgusting!’ the girl shrieks. ‘Take it away!’

The Mother shakes her head when she sees the elongated fish wriggling in the boy’s hands. She would rather cringe, but instead she speaks encouragingly.

‘Well done! Hurry, go show Dad quickly!’

The boy runs out of the water and dashes towards the bungalows. The girl also walks out of the lake and collapses onto her towel, wringing the water from her long hair. The Mother reaches for the sunscreen, rubs it into her aching arms, then leans back calmly and starts to read slowly.

A mosquito buzzes above the pillow as the Mother kisses her sleeping daughter’s forehead. She adjusts the blanket a little and brushes a stray lock of hair from the sweet, round face.

The boy is half-asleep as well. The exhaustion from a day of playing and running around finally catches up with him.

‘Did you see the beautiful fish I caught, Mom? Dad… praised me!’ His eyes are already closed, and his words have become an almost inaudible mumble, yet the Mother understands.

‘I’m proud of you, my boy,’ she whispers and smiles. The boy doesn’t hear her; he falls asleep so quickly.

For a moment, the Mother stands in the middle of the children’s room and watches her sleeping children. The sight of the peacefully resting siblings fills her with new energy for tomorrow. She knows that a part of her soul spends the night here, guarding her most precious treasures.

‘Good night!’ she says softly and slowly closes the door behind her.