The rain fell relentlessly on the city. The street was deserted, the asphalt cold and glistening. In the pouring rain stood a girl of about ten. Her clothes were soaked, her hair plastered to her face, and tears streamed down her cheeks. She was trembling, not only from the cold, but also from fear and loneliness.
A man appeared on the other side of the street. He walked quickly, his hat pulled down over his eyes, as if in a hurry, or perhaps fleeing from something. It was the girl’s father. He approached, passing right by her without even looking at her.
The girl mustered her last bit of strength and cried out, her voice breaking with sobs.
“Daddy, please… take me home. I know you don’t need me, that I’m bothering your new wife… but I’m your daughter. I love you so much.” Please, don’t leave me here.
The man paused. His face was frozen. He didn’t turn around, didn’t say anything, and walked forward with heavy steps, as if these words didn’t concern him.
At that moment, an old man who had been standing apart stepped forward. It was the girl’s grandfather. He had seen everything. The rain had soaked his coat, but his eyes shone with a burning intensity. He approached the man and planted himself in front of him.
“You should be ashamed,” he said in a low but cutting voice.
“You chased your son out of the house. Why? For your comfortable life? For your new family?”
The man remained silent.
The grandfather turned to the girl, took off his coat, and threw it over her shoulders. The girl clung to him, weeping.
“I will bring this child home myself,” the grandfather continued.
“I will take care of him, feed him, protect him, and love him.”
“You are not worthy to be his father.”
The grandfather took the little girl’s hand and walked away into the rain. The little girl looked at her father one last time, but saw nothing, neither love nor pain.
The rain continued to fall.
And the man left in the street felt for the first time what true emptiness meant.
