Faith for some, imagination for others, but what do we understand about such things? Why not use faith with a little imagination, like little Clara looking at the pendant around her neck?

The Father said that we must be like children to inherit the kingdom of heaven.

But as time went on, we grew, not just in stature; but we acquire a different way of seeing and dealing with challenging situations and circumstances, sometimes we try to prove to ourselves that we can be independent, however, we know that deep down, we miss the Father's presence, His hands holding ours, and our feet on His, like a child learning to walk.

Little Clara forgot the simplicity and faith that she had with Him. She felt free when she ran around the patio with her friend, looking at the birds, and the sky, imagining the Father looking and smiling. She forgot to talk to Him and imagine Him there beside her, watching her sleep, smile and listening to her conversations, sometimes banal, but attractive in His eyes.

In the same way, we can forget about being a child, having a simple Father relationship, and close enough to use our imagination to see Him. From running into his arms when we're afraid, from talking about the day and telling him about our adventures, showing him our bruises. Let him be part of our life...

If at any time you got lost like me; like little Clara, remember the words of young William: He will always find his lost sheep...

...

The sun is setting behind the church. Its rays extend through the gaps in the leaves of trees a few meters away. I can smell the sweet aroma of freshly baked bread and coffee bouncing freely in the wind, spreading across the square.

The little yellow leaves slipped between my thumb, in my handwriting, after receiving a blast of freezing afternoon air. I play with the pencil in hand watching the sweet little girl getting distracted by the fountain.

She looks at me with a sweet smile and yells:

- Look Fôfô...- pointing his finger at the source.

I walk to meet him, exchanging the wooden bench for the cement one, next to the fountain.

Her little finger pointed at a clumsy little duckling, gliding after the one who looked like her father. The wind shook the blue surface of the water, breaking waves against the duckling. He could barely keep up, flicking his single fin quickly, with difficulty.

The huge duck recoiled, noticing its clumsy baby straying away, possibly in its first lessons. He spread his wings, and welcomed the little one below one, following his rhythm...

- It's already late Pedrinha, shall we go home?

She looked at me, smiling, revealing a small window between her teeth:

-Mom calls me that ... - she replied.

- Can I call you, too?

She looked at me, brightening even more the amber color of her sweet eyes and shook her head in agitation, positively.

I took her small hand between my fingers, and helped her down from the cement bench.

- Fôfô, is mom going to have dinner with us?

- Of course, Fófó is making a delicious dinner... - I repeated with the same words and accent as my granddaughter.

She was bouncing around happily beside me while we talked about trivial things...

...

If you have come this far, I can say that I am very happy to have your company... to hear the one who speaks to you tell a story.

We have reached the end of this first part, and consequently the beginning of another one.

Prepare your heart for new and old stories that will follow the path of our little girl Clara.

And all the questions that popped into her mind will be answered, like little pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, each in its own time and space.

It is here that I say goodbye to you my friend, or, my friend and I look forward to your company in the next part of this story.

By the way, for the second part of this story, I'd like to say that God heals hearts...

Music: Orphans of God - Avalon