At 40 years of age, the man became sick with an incurable illness.
He was a strong person, but this burden was too heavy and it brought him near the end of his life.
On his deathbed, he held the hands of his child: his earthly continuation.
Reaching the last moment, his spirit lifted.
A short time later, the man found himself in a suspended and silent place.
All around him he saw lighten candles.
Some were high, others consumed and short.
A few candles were only melted empty forms.
The figure of an old man, with long silver hair, appeared.
As graceful as an angel, he came closer and smiled.
"Welcome." he said, with a warm and sweet voice.
"Hello." replied the man, hesitating because of his surprise.
"Where am I?" the man asked, while his gaze wandered.
"This is the vestibule." the older man replied, slowly turning his shoulders.
"What about all these candles?" the man countered.
"Each candle is a life." was the answer.
The man then began to study some of the small flames more closely.
He was curious about one which was nearly consumed and whose light was flickering weakly.
"This one?" he asked without taking his eyes off the wick.
"This is your candle. It will soon go out...”
A deep dismay filled the man.
Everything sounded tremendously wrong.
He began to tremble until he could not restrain himself anymore.
"The candle has melted. What can I do? I am dying!"
"You can do nothing." said the elderly figure, standing close and whispering in his ear.
"This is the natural cycle of things."
Meanwhile the man continued to stare at the weak flame sick.
He could not accept such an unhappy destiny for himself.
Suddenly he moved his gaze from the candle. Was he alone again?
He turned around and around, "Hey, Sir?"
He fell silent so that he could hear the reply... and was overcome with a wave of solitude.
He wandered near his candle. The others were so high and bright!
The man moved close to one of those. It was a higher candle than the others.
The flame was brilliant and constant. A beautiful candle.
The man looked around... The elderly figure had disappeared.
He took the wax, lifting it with a desperate gesture and broke it.
Then, he searched again for the old man among the bright cylinders. But, he wasn't there.
The man returned to his dying flame and placed the bright one on top of it.
His weak flame had become high and bright. He felt better now.
He thought that his elderly companion could not possibly have seen...
Then... all those lights blurred together...
The man opened his eyelids and a wave of daylight struck his sight.
He forced himself to keep his eyes open, and barely succeeded.
Had he been dreaming? Was he still on his deathbed?
The pain of his illness and the confusion of the medication had disappeared.
A low sound of crying reached his ears. His wife.
The image of the floor became clearer.
Then the shoes and the dark colored trousers. He was so elegantly dressed.
Turning his head he saw his wife weeping desperately.
The man looked straight ahead and the horror of what he saw nearly killed him.
It was his only child, motionless in a coffin!
He tortured his eyes with his hands to cancel the terrifying image.
When he uncovered his eyes again, nothing had changed. It was all tragically true!
The man understood that he had committed a fatal mistake.
The life he had stolen to lengthen his own was that of his child!
Among the thousands of candles, destiny had brought him to the one which was most dear to him.
Guilt did strike dumb him.
A loud buzzing penetrated his ears, and he felt himself fainting.
His knees could not resist and he fell to the ground.
His wife knelt and tried to revive him.
His face was contorted, his mouth open wide and mute.
Again, he was overcome with darkness...
When he was conscious once more, he found himself seated on a bench.
It seemed as though he had just awakened from a brief nap.
He tried to get accustomed to the light, and began to study his shoes and clothes.
He was wearing light Summer sandals and short beige pants.
The field in front of him was emerald green.
Children were playing with a ball. He was in a park.
A Summer breeze was lightly blowing and the trees were delicately rustling in the wind.
The man realized that he was not alone on the bench and turned his head.
The old man with his long silver hair!
"You!" he exclaimed with a voice which betrayed his surprise.
"Yes, me." said the old man, "I come to this park every day."
"Yes, but..." the man was not sure if he wanted to talk, or if he would even be able to do so.
He began: "... the candle, my child's death... I was wrong! What can I do now?"
"My son" answered the old man "The lesson was hard, but you have understood it...
You lived your youth, created a family with your wife, and had a child... all of this in great health.
When you became sick, you did not want to abandon it all,
So you tried to save yourself at the cost of another's life.
What can you answer to me now?"
The old man stared intensely, waiting for the reply...
"I have understood... that instead of attempting to lengthen my life at any cost
I would have been wiser to appreciate that which life had already given me.
From the beginning to the end.
Love of my parents, love of my wife, love of my son.
I had everything, but I wanted more!"
The man covered his face with his hands.
He wanted to weep out of shame for what he had done.
Then a gust of wind blew through his hair...
He separated his fingers, searching for the old silvered hair man.
He had disappeared once more! The man was alone again...
The sun began to set and the sky turned orange.
The first stars were already announcing the evening sky.
Something struck his ankle. A ball. A running child approached.
The child was sweating and out of breath.
"Papa, I'm hungry! Let's go home!" The man felt a rebirth. He lifted his child into his arms and hugged tightly.
The beating heart of the child hammered on the heart of the father.
For a long moment, they remained this way.
Then, hand in hand, they walked towards home, in the waning twilight.
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