Secret Helper

Up until now, I always thought that, as the mother, I was the only one taking care of all the household chores. As it turned out, we had a little secret helper in our home.

“Mom, what is this yellow stuff stuck to the bowl? Isn’t it dried egg yolk? I guess the dishes didn’t soak long enough.”

My eldest child checked the plates and soup bowls turned upside down on the drying rack and continued, “It looks like the grease didn’t fully come off the plates. There’s something left on the soup bowls, too.”

Surprised, I got up and headed toward the kitchen. Sure enough, just as my child said, none of the bowls, plates, or frying pans had that squeaky-clean feel. They were slippery, with traces of food left here and there. As someone who washes dishes with steaming hot water even in the height of midsummer, I couldn't understand how this had happened, so I looked at my husband. As if declaring his innocence, he closed his eyes, shook his head, and made a big X with his arms across his chest. Passing by my eldest, who had first noticed that the dishes hadn't been washed properly, and my second child, who was reading a book, my gaze finally landed on our youngest, who was doing homework at the dining table. Under the table, I saw her pair of restless feet—the left foot endlessly rubbing against the right, then the right foot rubbing back against the left without pause.

Even without a word being said, I knew immediately. It was my youngest—the one who always wants to know what I’m up to and misses me even when we’re at home together—who had quietly washed the dishes for me. A chuckle escaped my lips, and at the same time, a gentle sense of gratitude welled up in my heart. Turning to my children, I said, “Do you think Mom is always perfect? I’m only human too, so I make mistakes,” and then I began washing the dishes again. I kept the secret to myself and didn't mention it to my youngest that day.

A few days later, I accidentally fell asleep in the early evening after getting dinner ready. When I woke up and went to the kitchen, every single dish that had been sitting in the sink had been washed. When I touched bowls placed upside down on the drying rack, they were still warm. It seemed my youngest had improved since last time and even used hot water to do the dishes. When I turned the dishes over, they were much cleaner than before, though there were still watermarks and bits of residue here and there on the large pots and wide serving bowls. Not wanting to hurt my child’s feelings, I quietly rinsed them again. Then, I walked into my youngest's room.

"Si-yun, I think we have a secret helper living in our house. While I was taking a quick nap, someone washed all the dishes nice and clean."

Unlike her usual self, Si-yun kept her eyes on her workbook, avoiding my gaze as she replied.

“Well, if you do all the housework and dishes by yourself, your shoulders will start to hurt. So I guess someone must have done them for you.”

Seeing her play innocent was so adorable that I tickled her sides and pulled her into a tight embrace.

“Is that what happened? Thank you so, so much, my little secret helper Si-yun.”

Encouraged by my praise, my youngest continued to secretly do the dishes from time to time. When my husband heard the whole story, he was touched by our child’s thoughtfulness. At the same time, he worried that it would be burdensome to have to rewash dishes that hadn’t been cleaned properly and that any detergent left behind might affect the children's health. When he suggested that we gently explain the situation to Si-yun and ask her to stop doing the dishes, I found myself conflicted.

Then one day, while everyone else was in their own rooms, I happened to see my youngest quietly washing dishes in the kitchen. Standing in front of a sink that reached nearly to her chest, she carefully scrubbed each dish one by one with a sponge. Her lips moved this way and that as she concentrated, putting all her effort into the task. As I watched her, I could sense the love and care for her mother and family that lay behind her actions. My heart filled with affection and gratitude. She was simply so precious, thoughtful, and lovable.

Isn’t this how our Heavenly Parents look upon at us as well? God could accomplish the gospel of the kingdom with a single word, yet He entrusts it to His children, watching over us and helping us every step of the way. Through this, I have come to glimpse, however, faintly, His heartfelt desire to bless His children. Our Heavenly Parents grieve over those who have not yet come to realize God’s love. At the same time, they lovingly watch their children grow—children who stumble at times, yet repent, turn back, and continue to mature in faith. To repay even a small measure of the love of God Elohim, who sacrifices for His children until the day we return to our heavenly home, I will strive to become a child who shares the fragrance of Zion throughout the world.