Casimir, who was four at the time, started to sob amid his father’s tears.
“Then, my father took the handkerchief out of his pocket and said, ‘Here, son. Dry your eyes. I don’t want you to cry…’ And so I held onto it. The tears didn’t stop for a while. My father didn’t quite know how to comfort a sobbing four year old whose mother just died. But I guess he tried. He put his hand on my shoulder and made an effort to console the both of us. And, perhaps in a way, it did help; if only for a little while. Yet now we have each other. Friends help each other through life’s storms…â€? Casimir had said to me. There was a sad twinkle in his eye as he told me the story.