The tiny hands grasped her father's finger.
He looked at the newborn's face as he handed his first daughter
to his smiling wife.
The bonding had begun, that would last for a life time.
Her father was there on her first tooth lost,
her first skinned knee,
her first bad dream,
and her first nervous date.
Years passed and her family was always there
for tears,
for cheers,
for fears,
for laughs,
for photographs,
and for bar graphs.
Then one day a dark cloud covered her fate.
Her heart was stopped by a man with anger and a gun.
A gesture of peace she made failed.
Hate prevailed and everything ended.
But before her ashes were laid to rest,
her father carried her urn down the church aisle,
to the waiting hearse lined with black cloth.
He looked at the box through large tears and saw
the prettiest baby he ever saw in his life,
which he gave to his wife.
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