WISH

Don't tell my little girl, "Daddy, I hate you so much!" - Let her be in a rosy-happy mischievous mood all the time. Let her run lovingly to her mother, and with chubby little hands gently tear her a pearl of pearl blossom. She should not be lonely and lonely and lonely when I am gone. Her soul should not remain as turbulent and gloomy as the restless, murmuring sea.

Cinnamon powdered sugar is fit for a milk-egg, for her cherubic deceitfulness demands it. It would be nice to be a child with a clownish, merry mood, and play and play and play. For the absolute adult is often rather an evil giant, who shames, frightens and is not trusted.

The life of the new, strong-willed princess is as balanced and self-indulgent as ever: what is it like to be a rebellious, contrary adolescent? Will she often defy her parents' wise and foresighted admonitions, or will she just go her own way, like her father?!

I would say after her, I never know whether tenderly or firmly: "My little girl! Watch out! Take it easy, step by step! And when the lazur came off her little knees, and her tiny, little mouth turned up into a weep, I would bend down and give her a tissue. She felt her little body shivering silently and silently like a poplar leaf, and later she was already shivering and shivering.

  I looked into his deep brown eyes and began to chant my grandfather's saying, "You may get hurt, but it's important to try for yourself" - He wiped his eyes with his fist and said with a gruff, stubborn look, "You can do it on your own, Daddy!