I Used to Believe My Wishes Would Come True

As usual, I received a message from my mom the other day.

“Don’t forget to pray.”

It was a simple reminder, something she had told me about many times over the years. And every time I see those words, something in me softens a little. It brings me back to a familiar place, one that has been with me since I was a child.

When I was younger, my mom would always remind me to pray each day. She believed deeply that if we prayed with our whole heart, our wishes would come true. I remember how certain she was, and how I quietly carried that belief with me. In her life, she saw things unfold in ways that felt like her prayers had been answered, and that made the belief feel real to me too.

As a child, I didn’t question it. I simply believed.

Over time, my relationship with this began to change.

I have a vivid memory of me as a kid practicing riding a bike. It was during the rainy season, and I wanted so badly to go outside and practice. Every day, I would quietly hope for dry weather so I could ride. I was so sincere, so full of belief. And sometimes the rain would stop, and in those moments, it felt like something had heard me.

But there were also other moments.

I used to believe in Santa Claus. I would write letters and place them carefully under my pillow on Christmas Eve, holding onto that quiet excitement and hope. And then the next morning, nothing had changed.

Those small disappointments remained with me.

They slowly made me question whether what I was asking for was ever being heard at all.

And yet, even with that doubt, I still find myself returning to this quiet reaching, especially in the most difficult moments, or when someone I care about is in need.

There is something very natural in us that wants to reach out when we are overwhelmed, when we are grateful, when we are in pain, or when we are full of love. It shows up quietly in different moments of life, sometimes in words, sometimes in silence, or sometimes just as a feeling in the heart. It does not belong to anyone's culture or time. It is something deeply human. Whether we are going through joy or difficulty, whether we are alone or surrounded by others, there is often a movement inside us that wants to connect to something beyond our immediate thoughts, something larger, something deeper.

It feels almost like a quiet background presence in life, something that has always been there. And perhaps what we are really doing in those moments is not reaching outward, but returning inward, touching something that has always been part of us. A kind of connection that reminds us that we are not separate, that we are linked to something greater than our individual self, even if we do not have the words to define it.