Daughter: What happened to that man?
Father: He died.
Daughter: Why aren’t you helping them?
Father: They don’t want my help. Their god is different than ours.
Daughter: Why did he die?
Father: Sooner or later everyone does.
Daughter: Like mummy?
Father: Like mummy.
Daughter: Where do they go?
Father: Everyone has their own word. Heaven. Paradise. Whatever it’s called, it’s some place beautiful.
Daughter: How do you know it’s beautiful?
Father: Because that’s what I choose to believe