A Little Girl at the Christmas Market Pointed at Me and Said, ‘You’re the Man My Mom Cries About!’ – When I Saw Her Mom, Everything Came Back
I went home for Christmas expecting small talk and hot chocolate, not a stranger’s kid pointing at me and blowing my past wide open.
At 32, I hadn’t been back in over five years. At a festive Christmas market, a little girl in a red knit hat stared at me. “You’re the man my mom cries about at night,” she said. My brain froze.
Her mother slowly turned. June. My old classmate, first love, the one who told me, “I don’t love you anymore,” years ago. She held the girl’s hand tightly.
“Just this week,” she said when I asked Hazel’s age. Five.
June explained she hadn’t told me because her parents had pressured her to marry someone else and she wanted to protect me. “I told myself I was protecting you,” she said quietly.
The next morning, we met at a café. June introduced Hazel to me: “This is Daniel. He’s your dad.”
Hazel’s hug was small, careful, but it broke through five years of absence. “Can I call you Dad?” she asked.
“Yes,” I whispered.
We spent the day with dinosaurs and crayons, while June watched with hopeful, wary eyes.
I don’t know if June and I will ever work again. But I do know this: I’m not running anymore. I’m here for Hazel.
