Chapter 676 Cute Eli
Thinking about Ophelia being gone, not hearing her voice or seeing her anymore, tore Finnegan apart. Sometimes, the pain was so intense he could barely breathe.
Finnegan's hair was getting grayer, and he'd lost a lot of weight. He wasn't the lively, spirited man he used to be.
These days, Finnegan spent his time reciting and copying scriptures.
"Finnegan, why are you crying again?"
A small voice came from under the window.
It was a little boy.
The boy was five, nicknamed Eli, an orphan adopted by the monastery. He was as cute as a button, wearing a little coat, standing under the window with his head tilted up, eyes full of innocence. "You cry more than I do. I cried this morning and got spanked by the vice dean, but I put chili powder in his coffee."
Talking about his prank, Eli was quite proud of himself.
Looking at Eli's adorable face, Finnegan couldn't help but think of Warmie, who, over a year old now, could walk and talk.
Although he hadn't gone home, Celia sent him videos of Warmie every day.
He knew Celia's intention was to soften his heart and make him come home.
Through the videos, Finnegan could see Warmie's growth every day—falling, getting sick, crying, laughing, calling for great-grandma, walking, and running.
Warmie was looking more and more like Ophelia, which made him feel even more guilty.
Finnegan couldn't get over the fact that he was the one who caused Ophelia's death.
Finnegan patted Eli's head. "The wind got in my eyes, Eli. Go play somewhere else."
"Grown-ups lie too. That's something you'd say to a three-year-old. I'm already five."
Eli ran off and started drawing in the snow with a stick. Finnegan kept copying scriptures by the window, not paying much attention.
After a while, Eli shouted, "Look at what I drew. Does it look like her?"
Finnegan looked up and saw a simple but lifelike portrait of Ophelia in the snow.
His heart skipped a beat. The portrait was smiling, just like Ophelia.
"Eli, how did you draw this?" Finnegan was shocked.
'How does Eli know Ophelia?' Finnegan wondered.
Eli had only been learning from a painter at the monastery for a year.
"I saw it in your room, under your pillow," Eli said with a smile. "Look, does it look like her? Cheer up. See, the pretty lady is smiling."
Finnegan understood Eli's kind intentions.
The monastery was full of talented people. During his half-year stay, Finnegan had met several notable individuals, including a medical expert and a renowned artist.
Each of these people had their own reasons for becoming monks.
Eli, being smart, had learned a lot from these individuals. Compared to his peers, he was a genius.
Finnegan stayed silent. Eli asked, "Is she your wife? Did you argue? Do you miss her? Where is she?"
Finnegan didn't know what to say.
Eli asked again, "Did she become a star in the sky?"
"Yes," Finnegan said, looking up at the snow-filled sky. "She became a star, a tree, a mountain, snow, and wind. Whenever I miss her, she's everything around me, always here, never gone."
Eli understood that meant she had passed away.
"You've got more gray hair now," Eli noted, hands behind his back, reciting a poem, "Life is long; are there really obstacles you can't overcome?"
Eli spoke maturely for a five-year-old, his face still tender.
Living with monks and always seeking wisdom, Eli's thoughts were far beyond his years.
Muttering to himself, Eli walked away. He was the joy of the monastery, always busy with classes. Now, he was off to his painting class.
Finnegan looked at the snow again. It was falling harder, quickly covering the portrait on the ground, leaving no trace.
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
