For quite some time, he had been struggling with depression, and the world had turned gray. He was unemployed, indifferent and uninterested in life. What was he supposed to do now? Every day felt worse than the one before. He felt the lines on his face had grown deeper than ever.
Since Lana had died, he had moved several times, and this was now the third home he was being forced to leave because he could no longer afford the rent.
Setareh, his eight-year-old daughter, no longer asked for her mother. She had seen how weak and sorrowful her father had become. So instead of her nightly tears, she would softly sing the songs she used to sing with her mother for him. And now it was he who quietly cried.
The tears would come, and his daughter's kind face would blur before his eyes.
One day, while he was buried waist-deep in newspapers, looking through housing listings, Setareh came and wrapped her arms around her father.
“Dad, why don't we live in a van?” she asked. “It was Mom's dream to always be traveling. This way, we can take her with us in our hearts wherever we go.”
The man was amazed by the greatness of his child's heart and by such a beautiful idea. He gently stroked her hair and said, “It's a good idea, but it would be hard.”
The little girl smiled.
“I'm not afraid of hardship. Hardship makes people stronger, and I want to be strong. We can't give up, Dad.”
The man felt the weight on his shoulders grow lighter, and for the first time in a long while, he could breathe a little easier.
He made a promise to himself not to lose hope. He had to keep moving forward.
He had to take his daughter's small, loving hands in his own and keep going.
