I froze when I saw a little girl crying at my wife’s grave. But what she said next truly struck a chord with me. 
I stood on a narrow walkway among the tombs. I had merely come to leave flowers and stand quietly. But it was too quiet. The air had more weight.
Then I heard a voice. A barely audible whisper. Just one word. I stopped and looked around. There doesn’t appear to be anyone around.
Who is present?I see. I spoke aloud, trying to keep my cool in spite of my inner turmoil.
I approached the grave. I had a bunch of white chrysanthemums in my hands. I placed them on my knees. And then that whisper once more. Nearer. I snapped to attention and spotted her.
Nearby, at another tomb, was a young girl. Beneath a large coat, little. Her hair was unkempt and her expression looked forlorn. She hesitated, holding something in her hands.
I took a step toward her.
— Hi, I said almost in a whisper, “Are you lost?”
She raised her head. Her eyes were inflamed and her face was covered with tears. She looked at me gravely. She seemed to recognize me rather than be terrified.
Then she said just one word.
It felt like a blow to the chest. I became chilly. Abruptly, I found myself in the past, the past I had consciously tried to forget. In horror, I automatically retreated a step.
I watched her because I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“Dad,” she whispered. Hardly audible. But I did hear it.
Everything in me was turned upside down. It was like getting a shock from electricity. As I stood there, I felt breathless.
I heard my wife’s voice. No, her daughter owned it. Our daughter?
I took a step, then another. She was trembling. Away from the cold? Or fear?
“What’s your name?” I managed to mumble.”
Silently, she opened her palm. There was a locket on the ground. I immediately knew. Before I left for military service, I had given it to my wife. When was the last time we were together? I let her leave, not because I didn’t love her. However, I was unsure if I would return. I wanted to let her go.
But I didn’t come back. I was taken prisoner. Years. hurt. void.
When I finally made it back home, I found her deceased. A year ago. I searched for her tomb. Now I was there to remain silent. But rather than stillness, it was her.
If you were still alive, the girl began, “She told me that you would come.”
Before she died, she had told her daughter everything. He gave her the locket and said, “Come to me every day.” He will see you. He’ll understand. He will locate you if he is still alive.
The girl had escaped to the orphanage. She lived wherever she could. just to be there. Every day. She waited. She hoped.
I dropped to my knees and embraced her.
— I am here. I concur with you. You will never again be alone.
She clung to me as if she was afraid to let go.
And at that moment, I comprehended everything. The pain, the gloom, and the loneliness were all gone from us now. We had found each other.
Although life may break your heart, it also gives you the chance to put it back together.
Thank you for reading. Tell this story to someone you know who might still be waiting for their “dad.”
