The Call That Explained Everything
Then it hit me. A few weeks earlier, my grandmother had stayed with me for a weekend. She’s always been quietly spiritual — the kind of woman who leaves prayers folded inside drawers and murmurs blessings when she waters her plants.
That evening, I called her.
“Grandma,” I said, half amused, half curious. “Did you put something under my mattress?”
There was a pause — then her soft, familiar chuckle.
“Ah, you found it already? Yes, sweetheart. It’s kalonji. You’ve been sounding restless lately. I thought a little protection might help you sleep easier.”
A Quiet Blessing
Her words melted every trace of fear I’d had earlier. What I had mistaken for a pest problem was actually a grandmother’s love tucked quietly under my bed.
That night, I didn’t move the seeds. I left them right where she’d placed them — not because I believe in magic exactly, but because I believe in her.
When I turned off the lights, the air felt calmer somehow. Maybe it was just the comfort of knowing that someone cared enough to leave a secret blessing behind.
And as I drifted off to sleep, I thought about how love sometimes hides in the smallest, most unexpected places — even beneath a mattress, disguised as a handful of black seeds.
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