My father?

There was a young woman who had never known her father. One year, on Christmas day, a stranger knocked at her door.

When she opened the door, there was an older gentleman standing there. He looked at her face for a moment, then reached out and handed her a beautifully bound book of poetry.

"What is this?" she asked.

"A present," the man replied, "from your father."

"My father?" she said, "but I don't have a father."

"Rachel... you do...and I'm him." said the man, looking at the young woman, his eyes filling with tears. Her heart began racing at the thought that this may actually be him. But how could it be? After all this time?

"How can I really know if my father is present before me?" she asked.

The man, still crying, softly replied, "Rachel, your father is not present." He pointed at the book, gently tapping it’s cover.

"Book is present."

Then the woman cried as she hugged her dad for the first time.