A Call for Mommy

What if you got a call from someone...who wasn't even born?

By Kirsten Nicole

July 21, 2023

Dana Kent rushed to the door, purse flying over her shoulder, scarf whipped halfway over her bright red winter coat, fingers instinctively searching for the car key out of the seven different keys that occupied the ring, and eyes simultaneously glancing back over her shoulder to be sure all the lights were off. Slamming the front door with hurried determination, she flew to the white, Honda Accord in the driveway, pumps clicking against the frigid pavement at a rapid tempo. The swift snowfall that had already begun collecting on the windshield made even nature seem rushed. As she flung open the door and tossed her purse inside a soft jingling caused her to rummage through her pockets to find her cellphone. Dana wiped her finger over the fogged screen and frowned at the caller ID. It was not a number she recognized. Still, with this new job, she couldn’t afford to miss a client’s call. Hastily, she plopped down in the driver’s seat and answered using the car’s bluetooth.

“Hello?” She tried her best to slow her breathing as she slid the keys into the ignition and the engine roared to life.

“Hi, Mommy,” the small voice of a child came through the speakers of her car. Dana sighed, placing both hands on the wheel and rolled her eyes.

I don’t have time for this. She thought to herself. Regaining composure and taking a sip of the coffee, she replied.

“I’m sorry, sweetie, but I think you have the wrong number.” Slowly, she slid her finger to the “off” button on her steering wheel, but the voice on the other end suddenly protested.

“I do not have the wrong number.”

Dana raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Um…yes…you do,” she returned, so startled by the objection that she could not invent a better reply.

“No I don’t!” The little girl answered, growing increasingly louder.

“Look, honey, I am not your mother. Why don’t you try a different number, okay?” Dana glanced at the clock. 9:24. Six minutes to spare.

“Yes you are,” the child whined

“No…no I don’t have any children. I think of all people, I would know if I had a kid.”

“Mommy….”

Hearing the child once again call her Mommy pricked a wound in Dana’s soul, that she had tried to cover for months now. She and her husband had tried to have children for seven years without success, and her doctor had finally pronounced earlier in the year that Dana was incapable of becoming pregnant. Heartbroken, Dana threw herself into work, and her husband said little about her new and constant distraction. She did her best to avoid the spare bedroom in the house, which she had set aside for a playroom years ago, and refused to work in the nursery at her church. Despite her convictions, Dana felt bitter when another young mom announced she was pregnant. And she bristled when she heard anyone say the baby was a “surprise.” Why could other couples have children so easily? Why were people, who didn’t even want a baby, capable, when she, who so desperately wanted a child of her own, was denied? These questions and more had haunted her since the doctor’s verdict, and she often flung them at God in weak and helpless agony.

“God hasn’t given me to you yet.” The small voice returned, and Dana frowned.

“What?” was all she managed to stutter.

“You’re my Mommy…but not yet. And I know you’re my Mommy, because I know a lot about you.”

Dana sighed in impatience. She really didn’t want to talk to the child who had unwittingly caused such pain. However, something made her ask.

“All right. What do you think you know about me?”

The little girl sounded relieved that Dana finally was giving her a chance.

“I know that you are so pretty, and when I hug you, you always smell like…like…flowers! I tried your perfume on that one day…and you were kinda mad that I tooked it, but I wanted to smell just like you…. And! I know that you and Daddy dance in the living room together. Daddy likes to kiss you when you dance…and I say “ew!” And…I know that you like it a whole bunch when Daddy sends you red flowers for your birthday. …December twentyyyy….first!”

The young girl seemed proud that she had remembered.

“I see.” Dana pondered the truth in the statements the child had made. An interesting coincidence. “I still don’t think….”

“You know what I love to do the mostest with you, Mommy?” The girl interrupted. Dana winced, and bit the inside of her lip. Mommy.

“I love it when you sing to me in bed.” Her voice grew quiet.

“Honey, I don’t sing to you in bed…but I’m sure your own mother has a beautiful voice. Now, I’m almost to work, so I will need to hang up soon.”

“Wait!” A sudden urgency filled the child’s voice. “Don’t you even want to know my name?”

Aha! Perfect! Before Dana had even been married, she had chosen a special girl’s name for her daughter. No one knew the name. For she had locked it away in her heart when the doctor told her she would never have children. No one but God alone knew the name that Dana had chosen for her wished-for baby girl.

“What is your name?” Dana located and pulled into a parking space at the hospital where she worked, knowing that this would end the conversation.

“Micaela,” was all the girl said. Dana’s car door which was half open, slammed shut and she steadied herself by grabbing the steering wheel.

“What did you say?” She stuttered in disbelief.

“Micaela….” The girl repeated. “You said that was your special name for me, that you picked out when you were a little girl. Do you believe me now, Mommy?” Micaela’s voice was soft, and the Mommy she ended with didn’t make Dana hurt, but filled her with astonishment. The car became completely silent, as Dana turned the key and slid them out onto her lap. Confused thoughts began racing through her head.

“Yes…yes…I think I do.” Her mouth opened, but nothing came out for several moments. “…but…where…where are you? How did you call me?”

“Whoa…slow down.” Micaela giggled. “I can’t tell you that….”

“But…why….” Dana began.

“Because…I need to tell you something more important. I wanted to call you to say that you should stop being mad with God.” Micaela became serious. “God wants you to love Him if you get babies or not.”

The blunt accusation made in childlike frankness, was sharper than any wordy scolding Dana had ever received.

“You’ve been mad because God didn’t give you what you want.” Micaela continued. “God loves you no matter what. Now, you love Him no matter what.”

Dana couldn’t answer. Words caught in her throat. Tears poured down her cheeks. She had been mad at God. Angry that he hadn’t given her the thing she most desired. Yet, He loved her…always, even when she didn’t give Him what He asked for…praise and thanks.

“I’m so sorry, God.” Dana whispered, the beginning of a long and repentant prayer. She surrendered her will to the Almighty, and asked forgiveness, promising that whether she ever had children or not, she would be thankful and give praise to the One who gave her the ultimate gift of being a child in His family.

“Mommy?” Micaela finally spoke. “Do you know what my name means?”

Dana sniffed and wiped a tear from her eye.

“No…no I don’t think I do.”

“It means ‘gift from God.’ Don’t forget,” the little girl replied.

“I won’t forget.” Dana smiled, as she pulled out a tissue.

“I love you.” Micaela went on.

“I love you too, darling. Thank you.”

The last words she heard before the call ended filled her with peace.

“See you soon.”