If you met me, you would see a 39-year-old career woman that was a single mother of a child. You would meet a woman that was good at her job at working at the bank as an advisor and still having time for my daughter.

My daughter's name was Svenja, a nice old german name. She was 9 years old and the most important part of my life! I was not married and did not want romance. I was happy with my job and being a mother to Svenja. Some people may call being a single mother as a burden, but I did not want a traditional family. I did not want to become emotionally attached to many people.

I wanted Svenja to be happy and I wanted her to know her talents. I wanted her to succeed in life. I wanted her to know what her limits were. I was not a believer in children being carried away by their imagination. Svenja knew that there was no such thing as fairies or unicorns. She knew that there was no tooth fairy or Santa. She knew there was no God. I wanted Svenja to believe in herself and not some imaginary thing.

Some people would call me bitter and tell me it was wrong that it was a mistake because I taught Svenja about reality. The truth is my childhood was different. My mother was deeply religious and taught me a lot about God, Jesus, and the saints. I remember when we would visit the church and pray. I was always in awe at how quiet the church was and people lighting candles and deep in prayer.

I loved hearing how Jesus healed people and how he died for our sins. Night prayers were very special as it was a prayer with mom and me. I was a happy girl that enjoyed everything about life.

I had no dad. Mom had me when she was very young and my dad would not recognize me or take responsibility for me. This did not bother me. Mom was all that I needed.

When I was 10, the worse thing that could happen did happen. Mom got very sick and had to be in bed all the time. I remember nursing her. I never thought she would die, as being only 10, death was something I did not know about and did not understand.

Even when mom was sick in bed, she would read from the Bible and we would pray. She would smile at me and tell me some people were worse off. Some were in the hospital and were alone with their sickness. She was lucky. She had me and she had God.

Mom did not get better. Slowly she faded away. Slowly she did not smile. She became pale and weak. In the end, she did not even know who I was. I was brave when I was by her bed, but cried when I was alone. I missed my mom and wanted her back. I could not understand why she was sick.

In the end, mom died. I remember the priest, doctor and I were there. I heard one last breath and then there was quietness. The doctor said she was dead a 1:34 pm. I shook mom and told her to wake up. I told her that I needed her. The priest pulled me back and said that she was in heaven. He told me that God wanted her with him.

I was so mad that I ran out. I was sent to an orphanage and this was like growing up overnight. It was run by nuns, but I did not participate in their religious activities. Shortly after my mother died, I concluded that either God was mean for taking my mom away from me or there is simply no God. I began to think that there was no God. It made sense. When I prayed, I never heard God speak back to me. I began to notice all the wars and famines in the world. Why would God allow them? The easiest way to understand the world was to understand and accept that there was no God.

The fact that God did not exist explained why my mother was taking away from me.

I experienced some other losses. I found out I was pregnant years before Svenja came and this was the best news in my life at the time. I was looking forward to being a mother. But once again, life showed me how evil it could be when I had a miscarriage. I never met my baby, but it was just as bad as the time mom died. It totally convinced me that there was no God.

So maybe there is a reason why people think I am bitter. I do not think so. I think that I am realistic.

I wanted Svenja to have a happy childhood. She did not have to know about my mother's death or my miscarriage. In fact, I didn't like it when Svenja saw the news on TV. News usually is about wars, the world climate crises or something bad. I knew that Svenja would grow up, and that was time enough for her to see how fragile the world is.

Many would disagree with me, but they do not know Svenja as I know her. She was a quiet girl. She could be insecure at times and this went as far as she asked why do people like her? She liked typical girl clothes and the more girly they were, the better. She loved teddy bears and her bedroom looked like a princess room. She was everything that a mom could be proud of. Some people thought she was shy because she did not say much. Sometimes she would hide behind my skirt. I never worried about Svenja, some girls were just quiet and shy,

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The school wanted Svenja to start at a special needs class. I told them no and this was a gamble. The school could have been right, maybe Svenja needed extra help. However I knew my daughter the best, and she was not mentally impaired. She did not need to be put in any extra box and treated with care. Svenja needed to be around normal children and have a normal life. Everyone thought I was wrong and told me that Svenja is not like other girls.

I picked up Svenja from school one day when she was 9. On the way home, she was telling me about school. She didn't mention anything about friends but told me how nice the teachers were, and how fun it was to learn.

The next thing I knew was that there was a huge car coming towards us. I had no control of the car as it flew sideways. I had a quick glimpse of a car that had torpedoed into us and heard Svenja scream. The airbag opened and my head was bashed against it.

Then there was silence and everything went in slow motion. I could hear people outside trying to open the door of that car and tell us to get out. I quietly called out for Svenja, hoping that she was ok. I could not hear any answer. This worried me but I thought that I must have been in shock. I could hear sirens and the emergency people using saws to open the door.

I was put on a stretcher and rolled into the ambulance. I told the ambulance men to save Svenja and ask where she was. They tried to calm me down and then tell me that everything was fine. I looked around and could not see my daughter. All I could see was that there was a lot of action around the car wreck. It seemed like they were trying to get in the back of the car. I started screaming and calling for Svenja. Then I was given a shot that knocked me out and forced me to sleep.

When I woke up, I was in the hospital. At first, I just wondered where I was and what happened. Then it all came back to me, and I started calling Svenja's name.

A nurse came in and told me that an old woman hit us and we were in a car crash. Both I and Svenja were now in the hospital. The woman did not survive the crash. She told me that I was very lucky, as I only had scratches and was in a bit of a shock. I really did not care how I was. I asked the nurse to take me to Svenja.

I was shocked when I saw my daughter. She was in bed with a nurse next to the bed. There were tubes and a lot of machines around her. It looked like Svenja was asleep. I rushed to the bed and kissed my daughter's forehead.

The doctor told me that Svenja is in critical condition. She was in a coma and they doubted she would come out of it. I understood the doctor. It was his way of telling me that they did not expect Svenja would survive. He continued by telling me that Svenja was brain-damaged and even if she did survive, she would be like a vegetable.

I collapsed on a chair thinking that Svenja was dying. The nurse told me that this was the worse thing a parent can be told and asked did I want to see a priest. I snapped back at her and said a priest was the last person I wanted to see.

Despite me saying I did not want a priest, one came in the room and started giving Svenja the last rites. My head was in turmoil. I do not think that anyone would ever know what it is like finding out that a child will die. Even if Svenja survived, she would be like a vegetable for the rest of her life. It was hard for me to accept that the daughter I knew was gone, and I would be left with nothing or a shell of her.

I cursed the old woman that drove into us. She was probably so old that she could not see the road. Why did they even allow old people to drive?

Then there was a commotion. The machines started going wild. Svenja was dying and the doctor was doing his best to keep my daughter alive. I rushed to the bedside and was held back by the nurse. She was telling me to let the doctor do his job. I could hear the doctor give orders and try and do everything he could.

The machines stopped making noise and there was just a signal to show that Svenja was dead. I struggled with the nurse holding me, and when I was free from her, I rushed and held Svenja's hand. The doctor pronounced her dead at 11:42 am. I rested my head on Svenja's body and cried so hard.

The priest put his hand on my shoulder and told me that God wanted Svenja back home with him. He was about to say that we never can understand death and at times it felt unfair. I did not want to hear. I heard it when my mom died. There was no God and the priest was wasting his life convincing me that there was a God and that he loved us. I kicked him out of the room.

I sat next to Svenja's body as the nurse started removing tubes and the machines. Svenja looked as if she was asleep. She looked like she was in peace. I could not stop crying as I asked myself how could a child that never hurt anyone ever die so young. What would life be without Svenja? I did not want to have another child. Svenja was the best thing that happened in my life! I wondered how long I would mourn the death of my daughter? When I sat looking at the body of Svenja, I doubted that I could ever recover.

“Mommy?”

I heard a voice and recognized it as Svenjas voice. I thought it was my imagination at first. Then Svenja called for me again. I looked at my daughter and seen that she was awake. I started crying more and hugged her telling her how much I loved her. She was alive!!!

The doctor looked at Svenja and told me he could not understand it. There were no signs of any damage to Svenja's body and there were no signs of brain-damage. The doctor said this was very unusual, as Svenja was dead so long, there would have been brain-damage.

I didn't care about what could have happened. All I knew is that my daughter was alive and she was no vegetable. I refused to leave the room and nursed Svenja for the next few days. She was scanned and had so many tests, but they all proved the same. Svenja was a healthy 9-year-old and had no signs that she been in a car accident. Svenja was sitting up in the bed, and we talked about everything. Svenja was very polite and friendly with the nurses and even told me that she wanted to be a nurse!

The day before Svenja was to leave the hospital. We were sitting and did not have much to say. I knew that there was something on Svenja's mind, so I told her she could tell me anything.

“ Mommy when I died, I saw heaven,” she explained, “ I was in heaven!”