Everything had happened so fast. A few hours earlier, they had been laughing together, and now his wife had just given birth to their child at home. Once his wife was taken care of, the news was reassuring: both the mother and child were fine. Soon after, he found himself by his wife's bedside, holding their baby in his arms.
The child was so small, so fragile, that the father wondered if all this commotion had really been caused by such a tiny creature. Although the baby didn't yet have much strength, once in her father's arms, she began to move vigorously, as if recognizing the one holding her. The father seriously wondered if the child could already see.
Then, against all odds, this little being did something astonishing: she smiled.
The father stood for a moment, surprised. The mother, although she had missed this moment, observed the scene and, looking at the child in her husband's arms, simply commented:
"This child really loves her father, it seems," the mother said, smiling.
Given the fiery nature of the child from the moment of her birth, crowned by this unexpected smile, the father thought his daughter had inherited her mother's overflowing energy, the dynamic teenager she once was.
Hoping she would always remain "daddy's girl," he decided that her middle name would be Ado, as if marking her entrance into this world that constantly defied the rules.
As she grew, Ado developed a fiery temperament but also a precocious maturity. From an early age, she understood that she was not a special child, just a girl a little more awake than the others. She became aware that the world was full of children, whether privileged or underprivileged.
This lucidity, although she was still young, colored her thoughts and made it difficult for her to fully enjoy the carefree nature of childhood.
It was in January.
Ado, five years old at the time, had just finished her class. Unlike the other children who rushed out of the classroom as if they feared being the last ones, she slowly packed away her notebook.
Although she looked forward to the break, she saw no point in running around. One might have thought she lacked energy compared to other children her age.
"Slow down, children!" cried a young woman, the activity leader. She cast an intrigued look at Ado, who seemed to lack enthusiasm. Ado exchanged a smile with the leader before leaving the room.
Once outside, she watched the other children play, without really participating. Then a scene caught her attention: a group of children was bullying another. Like the others, she had no intention of intervening and simply watched.
This memory, now blurred by time, seemed distorted, as if the memory itself had changed the scene. Suddenly, Ado found herself in a hallway, waiting for her parents to call her in.
They were in a discussion with the school principal in his office. Ado remained calm until she was called.
When she entered, she saw her parents sitting across from the school official. She sat down under their inquisitive gaze.
The reason for the call was simple: a fight with other students. However, the details of the incident remained unclear in her mind.
In the car, her father looked at her with a curious expression. "So, you started a full-blown fight? Why?"
"Because I was going to lose!" Ado replied with disarming honesty.
Her mother shook her head, incredulous at her daughter's response, while her father burst out laughing.
"You really look like your mother when she was young," he said, amused.
"But why did you apologize to the principal if you thought you were right?"
"For appearances," Ado answered without hesitation.
"Appearances?"
"Yes. Sometimes, you have to lower your head, even when you know you're right. It saves a lot of trouble. It was just a children's quarrel. Even if I had insisted on defending my point of view, everyone would have quickly forgotten about it, unlike the image I would have left."
"The image, huh? How old are you now? I wonder if this should really be a concern for a child!" her father said, a bit perplexed.
From the back seat, Ado pouted. "I want to learn how to fight," she suddenly declared.
"Certainly not," her mother replied firmly.
"I don't see how that would help you," her father added. "Focus on your studies instead."
"I've decided to stop school."
"No, you're not stopping anything. You're acting like a child. But these decisions aren't made on a whim.
Try to make an effort, don't worry, it'll be fine."
"It's not a decision made on a whim," Ado retorted.
"Oh?" Her father slowed the car slightly, intrigued by the confidence with which Ado argued.
"I'm fine with you learning to fight," he said suddenly.
Ado's mother looked at him with wide eyes, incredulous. Letting their daughter learn how to fight? And saying it so directly!
Her husband hastily explained, "Don't worry, she's going to learn martial arts, but it's mostly a form of dance. All she'll gain from it is maybe physical fitness, coordination, etc. It's not for going around hitting strangers, right?"
"Of course not, it's just for self-defense," Ado quickly asserted.
"See?" he said to his wife.
"Yes, but I'm still skeptical," replied her mother, visibly tired.
"Do you think I'm spoiling her too much?"
"Maybe."
"What's wrong with that?" he asked, shrugging. Then he turned to his daughter. "Listen carefully, Ado.
I'm telling you this because you're smart.
"As long as I'm alive, you have nothing to fear. No matter what problems you face, I'll take care of them for you. So, never let anyone walk all over you, okay? Just don't be reckless.
Earlier, it could have gone badly. As long as you're okay, I'll be here to clean up after you. And if you make mistakes, I'll be here to apologize on your behalf."
Ado nodded, her expression serious.
"What are you saying to a child her age?" her mother asked, half-exasperated, half-amused.