People discovered that the woman buried there was not his mother when a seven-year-old kid visited her grave daily and wept for a long period. 
People started noticing the same boy more and more frequently on the outskirts of a tiny town, behind the city cemetery’s ancient wrought-iron gates. He always showed up at precisely three o’clock in the afternoon, slender and dressed in a shabby jacket that wasn’t appropriate for the weather. He bypassed other graves and stopped at one, which featured a picture of a young woman. He proceeded with assurance, as though he knew the route by memory.
About seven years old was the boy’s age. He bent over, caressed the icy marble, and started talking. Occasionally in a whisper, and occasionally bursting into a sob.
— Mom, I’ve returned. Can you hear me?.. I’m chilly. I’m afraid. There, no one loves me.
Then:
— What made you go?.. I can no longer be by myself. Why didn’t you hold off?..
When she heard him, the elderly woman who frequently sold flowers at the doorway started crying. The youngster fled without a word when the caretaker tried to call him.
He was left an orphan with a father who did not seem to provide him with adequate care, and everyone was certain that was his mother.
The caretaker could no longer stand it one evening when the youngster arrived drenched through from the rain. He dialed child protective services and the cops.
Every day, he is by himself. I can no longer watch him cry here. Who is in charge of him? His father is where?..
The police showed up in a flash. The child pressed his cheek against the stone slab as he stood at the grave. He didn’t fight back. He simply gazed at one place in silence. He abruptly yelled as they attempted to remove him:
— No! Don’t bring me! I must inform her that I discovered a toy today! that she is missed! She is awaiting my arrival! I said I would be there!..
A worker from child services said politely, “Who is she?”
— Mom, my mom,
However, the police officer later discovered the awful truth about the boy: his mother was not the woman buried there.
There was no mother for the boy. Not the one whose tomb he went to, anyway. Actually, since he was three years old, he had been living in an orphanage. His father is unknown, and his true mother had left him shortly after birth.
The woman he saw daily was a volunteer who frequently came to the orphanage, hugged the youngster, handed him books, and engaged in lengthy conversations with him.
It was she that submitted the adoption paperwork for him. The youngster was aware of it; for the first time, he thought he could be loved. that there would be a house for him.
However, the woman passed away in a car accident two days prior to the signing of the documents. She “could no longer come,” the boy was informed.
To show her how much he missed her, the youngster began to flee the orphanage every day after learning where she was buried.
He required a mommy.
