A man had a little daughter—an only and much-loved child. He lived for her—she was his life. So when she became ill, he became like a man possessed, moving heaven and earth to bring about her restoration to health.
His best efforts, however, proved unavailing and the child died. The father became a bitter recluse, shutting himself away from his many friends and refusing every activity that might restore his poise and bring him back to his normal self. But one night he had a dream.
He was in heaven, witnessing a grand pageant of all the little child angels. They were marching in a line passing by the Great White Throne. Every white-robed angelic child carried a candle. He noticed that one child’s candle was not lighted. Then he saw that the child with the dark candle was his own little girl. Rushing to her, he seized her in his arms, caressed her tenderly, and then asked, “How is it, darling, that your candle alone is unlighted?” “Daddy, they often relight it, but your tears always put it out.”
他到了天堂，看到所有的小天使都身穿白色天使衣，手里拿着一根蜡烛。他注意到有一个小天使的蜡烛没有点亮。随后，他看到那个拿着没有点亮的蜡烛的小天使是自己的女儿。他奔过去，一把将女儿抱在怀里，亲切地爱抚着她，然后问道：“宝贝儿，为什么只有你的蜡烛没有点亮呢？”“爸爸，他们经常重新点亮蜡烛，可是你的眼泪总是把它熄灭。” Just then he awoke