As I think back nearly fifty years ago I remember a cold winter day that changed my world forever. I had been staying with my aunt for several months. My mother had died when I was a baby and my father was always traveling with his job. I knew he had an important job and it always seemed so secretive. I had lived with different relatives for the past ten years and I was so tired of trying to make friends only to have to leave again.We had arrived from the airport and Aunt Elizabeth had rushed me up to our room. The Presidential Palace was just across the street. I remember all the lights and I was anxious to see the building in the daylight. I was told to sit by the fireplace and that we needed to talk. After she tipped the man for bringing our bags she walked over to me and stood directly over me.
"There was an accident and your father has been killed. We will wait for other relatives and then discuss where you will live." I looked down at the box of matches and all I could think about was that as long as I lived I would never forget this moment. My daddy was gone forever and I would have no one that cared.
I picked up the little box and put it in my silk purse. The edges are worn and I still can remember the coldness from that room. No fire could warm me that night.That beautiful hotel became like a prison and I lost all interest in seeing that palace across the street. That night I felt my frozen tears and I still long to say goodbye to my daddy.



