Caca’s Big Dream

Caca’s Big Dream

Short Story by Ozza Shafa Azzahra Cahya Mecca

Caca’s Big Dream

When Caca was a little girl,

she dreamed a dream bigger than herself.

She wanted to help her family,

to give Mommy a life without hunger or tears.

“Mommy,” Caca said one evening,

sitting close to her mother on the worn-out floor,

“I promise, one day, I’ll make things better.

I’ll buy you new clothes

and build a strong roof over our heads.”

Mommy smiled, weary but warm.

“My dear Caca,” she whispered,

“dreams don’t come easy.

You’ll have to work harder than you believe you can.

You’ll fall. You’ll cry alone in the dark.

But if your heart stays strong,

you’ll find your way.”

Caca gripped her mother’s hand.

“I’m not afraid,” she said. “I want to try.”

Years passed. Caca turned nineteen.

Every day was a silent war.

She rose before dawn,

worked until her hands were raw,

then studied beneath the dim flicker of a broken lamp.

Some nights, her stomach growled.

Some days, she wore the same torn clothes.

Her feet were blistered,

her back screamed from hours bent over labor.

One night, Caca sat beside her mother again.

But this time, her voice trembled.

“Mommy,” she said softly,

“I’m so tired.

My body aches, my heart feels hollow.

I’ve given everything I have—

but my dream… it feels so far away.

Sometimes I think it may never come true.”

Tears welled in Mommy’s eyes.

She cupped Caca’s face in her hands.

“Oh, my sweet girl,” she whispered,

“I’ve seen you fight.

You’ve suffered more than I ever wished for you.

Sometimes, life is cruel.

And the dreams we carry

can feel like heavy stones on our backs.”

Caca looked away.

“I don’t know if I can keep going,” she said.

Mommy pulled her close.

“It’s okay to feel lost.

It’s okay to be tired.

You’re human, my child.

But don’t forget—your courage

shines brighter than your pain.

Even when your soul feels empty,

I believe in you. I always have.

And I love you.”

Caca closed her eyes

and cried for the first time in a long while.

Tears for the hunger, the pain, the sleepless nights

and for the dream that always felt just out of reach.

But in Mommy’s arms,

she found a flicker of something more:

not a solution,

but a spark

a quiet reminder

that she was not alone.