The child sits unwillingly at the man's disposal. She wishes to go elsewhere, to have, once again, the comfort of her own uninterrupted world. She wriggles and whines in her seat. Yet she listens out of fear that if she does not give the impression of a careful ear, that she may never get what she yearns so deeply for. The peace and utter escape that she had come to know so well.
As the years passed, the same man, yet with fine lines slowly appearing at each movement of his lips and a few stray strands of aged silver hair, had the same child at his feet. Now she was a young woman, grown into a fine mind and finer habits. This time she sat calmly, absorbing each syllable of advice, tilting her head. Her eyes were shimmering and bent with respect with a hint of shame for what she once was.
After all, he spoke so eloquently, with precise and everlasting truth of the world. Like the wisdom of the centuries told through a single soul. It would make anyone wonder why such golden words were ever so unwillingly tolerated. That is why she sat there, at her fathers feet, begging the lord for mercy, wisdom, and for all the wonder that she could have been open to, if only she had not once been such a selfish child.
Life is precious, too precious to live with the everlasting regret of who we once were. But they say when death approaches, our lives are relived within our minds. Should we not think to put ourselves through twice the regret or should we remind ourselves that life is a miracle. We should be grateful to live it twice. That is what the father saw ,as his last few moments were spent with his little girl sitting at his feet. Smiling her bitter-sweet smile and blessing him with a beautiful last moment to relive.
