On Parenthood

I’m on a plane, sitting by the window, entranced by the view, not the view out of the window which is an inexhaustible source of fascination to me, indeed, but by the view of a father and a child. I can’t stop watching them, it is so remarkably beautiful He’s changing his little daughter – around three years old. She’s a little angel, standing obediently, staring mysteriously into the distance while the father is pulling her numerous tops off her and putting on different ones. I can not say for sure: who I am entranced more: by the daughter or by the father. They are both so beautiful in their secret intimate happy alliance. He’s not handsome, with receding hair, must be entering his 40s. He’s smiling and his smile is that of a child – His child, his face is all enlightened. And she keeps staring in the distance with these misty innocent eyes negligent of her power, negligent of what happiness and light she’s infusing into this otherwise severe looking man.  It’s the most beautiful scene, the most mystical and powerful transformation, seeing how someone so weak and fragile may be so powerful and capable of subduing age and strength and masculinity, converting it all into a quintessence of tenderness… The changing is over and the angel’s stretching her arms towards her father he’s welcoming her in his embrace…

At this moment I realize there’s no greater happiness possible in this world.