The girls granted their father’s last wish: on his birthday, they went to his grave to show him their outfits. At the foot of the monument, they found two lovely boxes with their names on them—without knowing what awaited them.

Irina, 6, and Anastasia, 8, missed their father Boris terribly. Since he had gone to heaven, they had stopped sneaking cookies and ice cream from the kitchen at night, no longer played pranks on their mom, and had given up shopping outings—without Dad, nothing was the same.

“You spoil them, Boris!” his wife Larissa used to scold. “Why do you always contradict me? I know you give them sweets!”
“Well, I’ll spoil them my whole life!” Boris would reply with a smile. “They’ll always come first to me as long as I live. Sorry, sweetheart, but now you’ve got competition. You know how much I love my girls—yes, you too.”

Boris always knew how to find the right balance: a devoted man, he was the perfect father. But after he was gone, everything changed. Irina and Anastasia became quiet, and Larissa, unable to accept her husband’s death, sank into grief.

Her last memories of Boris were terrible: he died before her eyes, and she couldn’t help him. Stage four cancer, the doctors said. Despite swift treatment and all their efforts, they lost the battle.

Death cannot destroy bonds built on love.

One morning, Boris’s health suddenly worsened; he didn’t wake up. The night before, Irina and Anastasia had slept by his side in the hospital—he had wanted them with him, as if he sensed it was his final night with his daughters.

The doctors announced: “Time of death: 4 a.m., Tuesday.” Before covering his once radiant face with a white sheet, they exchanged a look of apology. Boris was gone; he would not return. Larissa was devastated.

For weeks, Larissa couldn’t pull herself together, despite every effort. Her daughters, however, found strength where she had none. At least they had attended the funeral—Larissa couldn’t bear the sight of Boris’s casket lowering into the earth.

“For my birthday, I want my daughters to look as beautiful as possible,” Boris had said. “I want to know what they’ll wear—maybe I won’t be there, but promise me you’ll look stunning.” Those were his last words: to see his daughters dressed elegantly when they came to visit.

The next day, the girls begged their mother to take them shopping.
“Mama,” said Irina, “Daddy loved my red dress. He gave it to me for my birthday. I want my red dress!”
“Pick something for me, Mama,” Anastasia added. “I want a dress in Daddy’s favorite color.”
Larissa tried to dodge the subject: “I… I just don’t have the heart for it, girls…” But Anastasia stopped her.
“Mama, Daddy held our hands the night before he died. He said he wanted to see us in beautiful dresses for his birthday. It’s for him!”

Larissa burst into tears, and the girls comforted her in their arms.
“Daddy doesn’t want you to be sad, Mama,” whispered Anastasia as she gently stroked her mother’s back.

On Boris’s birthday, the girls, dressed in their new outfits, walked hand in hand toward the grave, with Larissa following behind. At the foot of the tombstone were two beautifully wrapped boxes with their names on them: “From Daddy.”

“Look!” cried Irina. “Daddy sent us gifts! He’s so funny—he doesn’t know he’s the one who’s supposed to get presents!”

Anastasia glanced at Larissa—of course, Boris couldn’t have sent those packages. But their mother encouraged them to open them.

Inside was a pair of shoes and a letter from Boris.

“Shoes!” exclaimed Irina. “They’re so pretty, Mama—my favorite color… pink!”

The letter read, among other things:

**“My beautiful girls,
Some angels are surprised at how gorgeous you are! They say you’re the most beautiful creatures God ever made. Daddy sees you in your beautiful outfits. I wanted to make you even more beautiful, so I picked out these shoes for you. I hope you like them.

Daddy isn’t here physically, but he’s always in your heart. I know you don’t sneak cookies and ice cream anymore; don’t tell Mommy, but I saw her refill the cookie jar… next time you visit, tell me how you snuck some without her noticing! Even though I’m not around, I want you to be happy and smile every day. You don’t have to be perfect all the time—even Mommy isn’t.

Thank you for coming to see me on my birthday. Daddy loves you and misses you.

With all my love,
Daddy (Boris)”**

“It’s a lot, Mommy!” Irina complained. “What does it say?”

Anastasia hugged her: “It says he’s happy up there and wants us to be too. He loves us and wants us to smile. Thank you for coming, Mommy.”

Larissa smiled through her tears: “I love you too,” she whispered, grateful that her daughters had turned her grief into strength.