In a deep fox hole under the roots of an old oak tree lived a little fox named Ruda. She had an older sister, Lyska, and once had a mother. Warm, gentle, with a fluffy tail that covered her like a blanket. But in the fall her mother was gone. She went hunting, but did not return - only one gray fur remained on a thorn bush.
Liska tried to be a mother to Ruda. She brought her mice, warmed her with her side. But Ruda still cried softly every night.
The first winter came. The snow lay deep. It was warm in the hole, but lonely. The redhead found her mother's old piece of gray wool - the same one from the thorn bush. She held it in her paws, sniffed it. The smell still lingered - warm, her mother's. She pressed it to her nose and fell asleep with it.
Before Christmas Eve, Ruda was completely sad. She lay curled up, her eyes wet. Lyska sat next to her.
"Rudusya, I know you're sad. Me too. But mom wouldn't want us to be sad. She would want us to remember her well.".
"I want to see her," whispered Ruda. "Even in a dream. At least once.".
That night the snow fell in large, large flakes, as quiet as feathers. The forest was quiet. Fox and Red fell asleep. It was dark in the hole - only through a small hole could you see a star.
And suddenly someone in white stood near the hole. Tall, in a golden mitre, with a crutch in his hand, with a white beard. He did not go inside - he stood at the entrance. He raised his crutch, quietly touched the snow.
A golden warmth flowed through the hole in waves. The redhead fell into a deep, deep sleep. And she dreamed.
I dreamed that she was in a sunny meadow. The grass was green, there were flowers. And in the middle of the meadow sat her mother. Mother Fox, with a fluffy tail, with kind, kind eyes. She was smiling.
«"My redhead," said mom. And stretched out her paws. The redhead ran to her. She buried her nose in the soft fur, in mom's smell. Mom hugged her with her paws. She stroked her, whispered: "I love you. I am always with you. In every wind that gently blows your face. In every snow that falls on your back. In every warm ray that meets you.".
The redhead cried with happiness. Mom smelled like her. Mom was real. Sitting like that is all you need.
«"It's your time, Rudusya. I'll wait for you. Someday, very, very soon. But for now - live. Remember me. And love your little sister. She's your mother now.".
The Red Fox woke up. It was already dawn in the hole. The Fox was still asleep. And on the Red Fox's belly lay a small golden piece - exactly the same as her mother's fur, only shining like sunlight. The Red Fox licked it - and it dissolved in her heart. Forever.
Since then, Ruda hasn't been as sad as she used to be. Sometimes she still cries—her mother won't be coming back. But inside, that warmth always warmed her. That dream. That hug. It was real. And it's forever.
💛 A mother's love never fades. It remains in every wind, in every snow, in every warmth.