The Tree

He stared at it. In the snow the branches were barely visible from his distance. They were splashes of darkness in an otherwise white and untouched world. He squinted at it to improve his view. He would not approach. He would not go any further.

This was where he stood on his long and weary way home to his aunt. This was where he had trudged so many years ago after the death of his beloved Líng'er. This was where the impossible had been made possible. In the arms of a silhouette shadowed by a parasol was his daughter. His heart had been leaping for joy. He had lost himself in grief and had done nothing but walk since his dear wife sacrificed herself for all creatures of the earth.

Then, when he finally tore his eyes from his daughter's precious little form, he lost all breath. There she was. His dear, dear friend who had loved him so truly, had been such an ally to Líng'er and had sacrificed herself for his child… The girl who had died for his and Líng'er's survival… There she was.

It would be years before her soul could be restored, but that meant nothing at the time. The dead had returned. His daughter would be with him again.

This desolate season that he had been unable to share with his beloved had brought him these two. He had hope yet.

Now, however, both were gone. He was alone and well into his fifties but he still felt their love. He knew that they watched him from above in that place where they guarded all of life on earth.