Daughter of her own father

• Ksusha, what did you draw on your leg?
• Leave it, Dad, it's beautiful.
• No, take it off, or the leg might get infected.

The next morning we go to the kindergarten by car. As we walk from the car, we occasionally have to stop and carry Ksusha. She won't let her leg be touched. It hurts her a lot. I can see she wants my comfort because she's in pain. But something inside me stops me from showing her compassion. It's the consequence of her own foolishness. Indeed, I didn't remove the "beautiful" elastic band on leg from the candy. That day was definitely not Ksusha's day, her leg didn't get better. And she was limping when I picked her up from the “snack time”. Ksusha cried, the teachers were very concerned about what happened and if it was being treated. I explained with irritation and tried in Polish to explain about the elastic band. We probably walked in silence. Because she's at fault, and she didn’t listen to her parents who speak the truth.

Meanwhile, in the evening, I start to run a fever, feel miserable, and all plans are canceled. Giving up on everything, I go to bed early. Dasha brings me a drink, the kids peek in. Before I fall asleep, I shout to another room: "Massage her leg!" I fall asleep...

I wake up when everyone's already asleep. I have a sore throat, I feel hunched. I lay down. I feel very sad. I wish someone would comfort me. It's especially hard because I understand why this happened to me.

In the morning, I went to the forest. I even saw a moose there. The sun warmed me up, and I took off one of the two hats. Then I climbed into the observation post to watch the birds. There was a strong wind blowing through my head, and it felt somewhat chilly. But with the adrenaline from the encounter with the moose, it was all worth it. "Beautiful," but the rest doesn't matter! Excitedly, I head home, once again with a small treasure, "a spotted moose". On the way, I stop by the store for a snack, realizing I should treat myself with some ice cream. I take a small one and quickly eat it so the kids wouldn't see. Well, that's the whole diagnosis.

So, here I lie, wanting someone to pity this fool, while everyone sleeps. And I ask God: "Lord, allow me to feel pity for myself." I felt warm, and I immediately thought of my daughter. My whole heart felt sorry for her. A father's daughter.

I fall asleep peacefully.