Because of this special simplicity, Thairath Plus invites you to explore stories shared by psychotherapists about two lives healed by just a single ‘short word,’ along with psychological reasons why these ordinary words hold such power and can heal wounds too deep to fully recover.
The first story is about an 18-year-old young man who carried the grief of losing his mother suddenly when he was 11. The pain consumed his heart, leaving no room for hope to live in a world without his mother. During his final therapy session, the therapist asked if he believed his mother was still with him. The young man replied,‘My mother is with me everywhere.’He said he always talked to his mother in his mind. The therapist then left him with this thought...
‘If your mother truly is everywhere with you, imagine how much she would hurt to see her son suffering and harming himself like this.’
One morning, on a day the young man decided to end his pain by himself, he went to the train station hoping to reunite with his mother. Standing on the edge between life and death, he suddenly heard the cry of a three-year-old girl playing nearby who had fallen, crying out for help by shouting,‘Mommy!’
At that moment, the single short word from a complete stranger—the name he longed for most—was heard in the child’s voice, the same tone he once used to call his mother.
In that instant, the young man recalled the therapist’s words. The echoing voice in his mind made him stand still for a moment on the platform before stepping back and deciding to board the next train to go ‘home’ immediately.
Later, the therapist revealed that the young man, now 18, has become a psychology expert who has helped save countless teenagers suffering from emotional wounds.
Another story involves a high-level female executive who, despite appearing perfect outwardly, was a survivor of family violence. She bore the pain and PTSD scars from her past.
One day, she gave a junior colleague a ride home. The young man entered an address into the navigation system, and the word ‘Home’ appeared on the screen. He asked her a simple, straightforward question,‘So where is your home?’
Hearing the word ‘home’ caused her to pause and become speechless. Her emotional wounds reminded her she no longer had a safe place called ‘home.’
That single word shattered the walls of denial she had hidden behind. She had always tried to be strong and hide her vulnerability by presenting a perfect image. But just the word ‘home’ made her decide to take six months off work, accept the painful reality, enter treatment, and heal her heart until she could rebuild a ‘home’ within herself again.
Because our brain and heart do not work separately. Research by Tulving & Thomson (1973) explains that the brain retrieves memories and feelings best when triggered by stimuli matching the emotional context in which the memory was formed.
Although philosophical quotes sound grand, beautiful, and moving, they were never encoded in our shared emotional experiences. In contrast, the child's voice calling‘Mommy’connects deeply with emotions and bonds, drawing out love, warmth, and care the therapist once planted to protect him in his moment of crisis.
Meanwhile, research by Conway & Pleydell-Pearce (2000) further explains that personal memories form the ‘self.’ For those who have endured trauma and violence, the word ‘home’ is not just a place—it represents wounds and a lost identity.
Though a simple question, it triggers deep wounds and takes us back into the past. Such brief, ordinary words do more than engage our thoughts; they break down defense mechanisms, bring us back to the present, and give us courage to face reality and heal wounds that may never fully disappear but can at least fade.
What we can do is become aware of the words we use with each other. Speak truthfully, even if simply, but with genuine care for each other’s feelings. Ask from the heart and offer safe spaces for one another.
And leave words of love in people’s hearts, because we never know if the small words we say today might save someone who has no one left to hold them.