They hardly ever talked together. He was always drunk. He left home when she was four. Now that she was dying of cancer he finally showed up at her bedside. She was 7 years old with 3 months to live. Ever since she could talk, Beth would pray for her alcoholic father to come back home and give his heart to Jesus. One day she woke up on her hospital bed to find her daddy sitting next to her, holding her little hand crying softly. “Don’t cry, Daddy,” she said in a soft voice. “I will be fine. I’m going to see Jesus soon. But I’m worried about you: When I’m gone, will I ever see you again? I wish you could have stayed home to see me dance, go to church with me and walk me to school. I had so much to say to you, to tell you how much I loved you.” He was dressed well and clean shaven. He reached down and kissed her head. “Beth, I came to say I’m sorry for leaving you and mom. Will you forgive me?” “Yes, daddy,” she said. “I also came to say, I gave my life to Jesus and will be going to church this Sunday. Your mother and I plan to visit you together after church.” “I’m so glad to have my daddy back, Beth whispered.” She squeezed his hand, and quietly, went back to sleep.