The Legend of the Wh

His breath grew more and more labored, his lungs like a bellows struggling for air. He found some strength somewhere to shake with the effort of raising his hand to touch that tiny flower-like face, forcing a smile.,Tears welled up in her palms, the little girl was still so prone to crying.,My temples are frosted with age, and my hair is white. There's nowhere to express the profound sadness I feel. As a child, I was unable to repay the grace of having been raised with such love and care. Scenes from my childhood flood back, making me realize how unworthy I am of my parents' devotion.。