When the setting sun filtered through the tall oak trees to caress the ice of Watson’s Pond, the whole world became golden.
It was easily the little girl’s favorite place in all the world, as her sparkling white ice-skates carried her along, and her father’s strong arms encircled her and kept her safe.
They spun and danced and skated together, and she often looked up to see laughter in his green eyes. The little girl’s mother would sit by the pond, never skating but always watching, smiling quietly to see them together.
And if she were very lucky, the child always hoped, the sun might not go down at all but set the ice to sparkling fire, as they danced across it forever.