It turns out that there are people who have never met, yet long for each other deeply.
A gust of wind blew, making Louis feel chilly. He tightly held Elsa’s hand and looked at the photo on the tombstone. His figure swayed a bit, as if bearing some pressure.
“Father, who is she?”
Louis shook his head. “I don’t know.”
Beside Louis, the little girl with braided hair, her eyes wide and clear, her features delicate, and her young face still slightly chubby and soft, remained silent.
Louis didn’t speak, and neither did she. He gazed quietly at the tombstone, and she followed suit.
Carefully, Louis placed the sunflowers he brought in front of the tombstone. “Let’s go, Elsa.”
“Father, wait for me.” Elsa let go of Louis’s hand and pulled out a candy from her pocket.
These candies were all given to her by Louis. Children couldn’t eat too much; at most, three a day. Elsa grew up in an orphanage and had never tasted such delicious candy before. She didn’t want to eat them all at once; she saved them, one by one.
At just seven years old, she lacked the innocence often seen in children and felt extremely insecure. She was afraid that after her father, Louis, took her back, he wouldn’t want her anymore. If he didn’t want her, she wouldn’t be able to enjoy such delicious treats.
So, she saved them, one by one, occasionally eating one a day. She carried a cloth pouch made by the orphanage director, which contained the candies, and now it held 101.
Elsa squatted down and carefully poured out the candies from the pouch, counting them one by one. She counted up to 52, wrapped them in tissues, and placed them in front of the tombstone.
Children are pure; they believe that by doing so, the deceased would be able to taste the sweetness of the candy.
“Why did you give away the candies you saved so meticulously?” Louis asked.
Elsa stood up and earnestly answered Louis’s question.
“Because the aunt in the photo is too thin. It seems like she didn’t eat well. I wanted to give her more candy, hoping that in her next life, she wouldn’t suffer so much.”
A sourness rose in Louis’s heart. In his blurred memory, there seemed to be someone who liked candy but suffered a lifetime.
“Well, let’s hope she tastes more sweetness in her next life.” Louis extended his hand. “Let’s go, let’s go home.”
Elsa placed her small hand in Louis’s palm, and hand in hand, they returned home.
The road downhill was a bit rugged. Louis crouched down. “Father, I’ll carry you.”
Elsa looked at Louis’s sturdy back and wanted to climb on like other kids, but she suppressed that desire and shook her head.
“Father, I’m a big girl now. I don’t need you to carry me.”
“No matter how old you are, in my eyes, you will always be a child. The road down is steep and hard to walk, and your heels are blistered.”
Elsa shrank her feet and looked down at her reddened heels. The shoes were newly bought and uncomfortable; she had been wearing them despite the pain. She didn’t tell anyone and endured the discomfort. It’s the same with new shoes, they don’t fit well at first, but after wearing them for a while, they become comfortable.
But she didn’t expect Louis to notice, even though she wore socks to cover her blistered heels.
“I’ll carry you.” Louis reiterated.
This time, Elsa hesitated for a moment before obediently climbing onto his back.
Gently, Louis carried her, walking and saying, “Elsa, now you are not alone. When it hurts, speak out; you don’t have to endure it silently. I will always be with you as you grow up, and I will never abandon you.”
“Okay.” Elsa’s voice was hoarse, and if you listened carefully, you could hear a slight tremor. Her small arms wrapped around Louis’s neck.
She was no longer a wandering child. She now had a father, family, a warm home where she could eat hot meals, and someone to hold an umbrella for her on rainy days, wipe her tears when she cried, and carry her when her feet hurt. She also had an endless supply of candy and could taste sweetness every day.
She was a happy child.
“Father, I want to eat candied haws.”
Louis paused his steps. “Why suddenly want candied haws?”
“I saw an old man selling them on the roadside just now. Our orphanage director used to buy them for us, but we could only have one each.” Elsa spoke cautiously; she couldn’t see Louis’s face, so she could only gauge his mood from his tone. If her father was unhappy, she wouldn’t eat.
“Okay, I’ll buy you a string when we see them.”
Elsa couldn’t hide her surprise in her tone. “Can I have a whole string?”
“Of course, in the future, tell me what you want to eat, and I’ll buy it for you.”
Louis carried Elsa back home, and they met Finn on the way, who stood still holding two children. They exchanged glances and then left without a word.
Finn held the children and watched Louis, who had never dated or married, but unexpectedly turned out to be the best father.
“Mr. Snearl,” Linda, who was pushing a stroller, called out from behind.
Finn snapped out of his thoughts and looked up, seeing a row of birds flying south. Winter was approaching, and migratory birds couldn’t stay.
So this was how Elisa didn’t reincarnate.
Hamish regretted every day. Louis remained unmarried for life and Aoife’s work was buried. Ethan died, it seemed that all were regrets.
Finn stood before Aoife’s grave, gazing at the sunflowers and the candy laid beneath.
He was truly inferior to a child-a little girl that didn’t even know Aoife. Seeing the emaciated Aoife in the photo made her give out her candy.
Yet he had never given her even half. He hadn’t shown her any kindness while she was alive.
“Aoife, I have brought two children to see you. I will strive to be a kinder person, to do more good deeds, and to raise the two children well.”