My Beloved Daughter Maysoon Eight years have gone since you departed from the Valley of Doom to go and live with the saints and martyrs in paradise.
How beautiful you were, young as a blossoming flower.Happy you were, when I returned from work, running towards me,Jumping on my back asking me if I bought you colors for painting.To fool you, I would put my hand in my pocket pretending I forgot, you used to laugh with the innocence of children, put your hand in my other pocket, and get out what I promised to buy you.
We used to play together at sunset.I used to run to let you touch my hand.Your heart and your festive dress had the odor of childhood and innocence. I used to lift you up, carry you in my arms, and pat you to sleep. Your heart used to spread rivers of hope in front of me. I miss you Maysoon, my daughter. I miss you, I miss you. You were the balsam to my wounds, purity to my soul, a spring to drink from and learn how to be a child in my heart.
The years have passed, I miss you my daughter, memories come to me and my tears fall, it flows and with it flows a burning sensation through my bones.
They killed you, they slaughtered you and then they cast you among the tree leaves. What kind of heart is that???What kind of mind is that???What kind of death is that, my daughter!!! I wonderI cryI wail, then what??? Answer me my daughter, what did you feel when they dug their daggers into your kind heart and your angel face, child of my life. NO, No, Papa don’t cry.I live here without a care, the arms of Jesus give me warmth, and the love of the Virgin fills me.I have with me, many martyrs and saints, righteous people, happy with their Redeemer.
Don’t cry for me Papa, I just came to tell you that I am waiting for you. Fine, my daughter, fine, I will come, just pray for me, and I will not keep you waiting long. God has a big Heart and He is giving me a chance to repent. Sure, sure, my daughter sure, God will answer in time, God will take back what is His, and you will find me beside you. I and you are beside our beloved.
Every free Coptic father
Translated into English by Voice of the Copts Tuesday, 06 January 2009