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 possessed¹, moving heaven and earth（竭尽全力） to bring about her restoration to health.

His best efforts, however, proved unavailing（无效的，徒劳的） and the child died. The father became a bitter recluse²（隐士） , shutting himself away from his many friends and refusing every activity that might restore his poise³ and bring him back to his normal self. But one night he had a dream.

He was in heaven, witnessing a grand（宏伟的） pageant⁴（盛会，游行） 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, caressed⁵ 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.”

Just then he awoke from his dream. The lesson was crystal clear（极其明白） , and its effects were immediate⁶. From that hour on he was not a recluse, but mingled⁷（融合） freely and cheerfully with his former friends and associates. No longer would his darling’s candle be extinguished by his useless tears.