This story is inspired by the poem Baby by George MacDonald.
The little girl snuggled deeper into the warm feather bed as her mother rustled into the room and set the candle down.
"Tell me a story, Mama," the girl whispered as her mother seated herself on the bed. "I want to hear again where I came from." Her mother smiled gently and began.
"You and many other children were playing in a beautiful garden in God's mind. It was a lovely place, full of trickling streams, butterflies and places to explore. You and the other children who had not been born yet played many games, danced with the breezes, made colorful flower wreaths and saw many wonderful things that now you remember only in your dreams."
"And grown ups don't remember them at all," added the little girl.
"No they do not," replied the mother sadly. "Every day God would come and talk with the children and maybe even play a game of tag. It was a beautiful place.
"One day God came to you especially, took your hand and said 'Come with me.' Together you walked to the edge of the garden, to a place you had not been before.
'Where are we going?' you asked. You were a little afraid because it was becoming darker and now you were walking among the stars.
'You will see,' God replied.
As you walked through space you saw many doors. Most were closed, although some were open. Through the opened doors you could hear voices. Some of the voices were pleasant, though unfamiliar, others were harsh and made you cling a little tighter to God's hand. Finally, you stopped at one open door. 'This one is yours,' God told you.
You stepped toward it, but then you turned and looked back at God. 'I am always with you,' He told you. Then you heard the voices inside. These voices were different from the others. They sounded comforting, like someone you already knew, someone you knew would love you and take care of you. You could almost feel their arms reach out to hold you. Then you wanted to step through the door and when you did..."
"Then I came to you and Papa," the girl finished the story with a little smile and half-closed eyes. The mother leaned over and kissed her softly. "Goodnight."
The little girl fought her drooping eyelids to add one more bit. "You left the door open because you were hoping I would come in."
"Very much so, darling. Sleep well."
Then the mother blew out the candle and left the room of her sleeping daughter.