Letter to Charlie Chaplin's daughter.


Charlie Chaplin, the father of 12 children, in 1965, being the wiser old man of 76 years, wrote a letter to his daughter Geraldine dvadtsatiodnoletny seeking yourself in the dance at the Paris scene. Letter emotional, deeply personal, but at the same time suitable for each of us.

This is an example of paternal love and care, grief and joy, pride and experience, accumulated wisdom and keep it in childhood. "I've never been an angel," wrote the genius of cinema, "but I always wanted to be a man. Try and you ».

Read this letter and think about what you have taught your parents, and what you want to teach your children.

"My girl!

It's night. Christmas night. All armed warriors my little castle slept. Sleep is your brother, your sister. Even your mother was asleep. I almost woke asleep chicks getting to this half-lit room. How far are you from me! But let me go blind if your image is not necessary always before my eyes. Your portrait - here on the table, and here, near my heart. And where are you? There, in a fabulous Paris on the majestic dance theater stage on the Champs Elysees. I know it, and yet it seems to me that in the silence of the night I hear your footsteps, see your eyes that shine like stars in the winter sky.

I hear that you play in this festive and bright play the role of a Persian beauties captive Tatar khan. Be beautiful and dance! Be a star and shine on! But if the enthusiasm and appreciation of the public you are intoxicated when presenting the fragrance of flowers swallow your head, then sit in a little corner and read my email, listen to the voice of your heart. I am your father, Geraldine! I'm Charlie, Charlie Chaplin! Do you know how many nights I sat by your bedside when you was a baby, telling you a fairy tale of Sleeping Beauty, a watchful dragons? And when my dream to wax dim old eyes, I mocked him, and said: "Go away! My dream - a dream of my daughter! »

I have seen your dreams, Geraldine, saw your future, your date. I saw a girl dancing on a stage, fairy, moving across the sky. Heard the audience said, "See that girl? She is the daughter of the old jester. Remember, his name was Charlie? "Yes, I'm Charlie! I'm an old clown! Today is your turn. Dance! I danced on a large ragged pants, and you dance in a silk dress princess. These dances and applause sometimes will offer you to heaven. Fly! Fly there! But get down on the ground! You should see people's lives, the lives of the street dancers who dance, shivering with cold and hunger. I was like them, Geraldine. In those nights, in those magical nights when you fall asleep, lulled by my stories, I was awake.

I looked at your face, listening to your heart beats and asked myself: "Charlie, do the kitten will ever know you?" You do not know me, Geraldine. The set of tales told I'm in those nights, but his tale - never. And it is also interesting. This tale about a hungry clown, who sang and danced in the poor neighborhoods of London, and then collecting alms. Here it is, my story! I knew what hunger is, what is not to have a roof over their heads. More than that, I experienced a humiliating pain wanderer-jester chest that raged whole ocean of pride, and this pride hurt injured throws a coin. And yet I am alive, so leave it.

Better to talk about you. After your name - Geraldine - should my name - Chaplin. With this name for more than forty years, I make people laugh on earth. But I cried more than they laughed. Geraldine, in a world in which you live, there are not only the music and dance! At midnight, when you come out of the great hall, you can forget the rich fans, but do not forget to ask the taxi driver that will take you home to his wife. And if she is pregnant, if they do not have money for diapers for the unborn child, put the money in his pocket. I ordered the bank to pay these expenses yours. But all others pay strictly on the account. From time to time ezdi subway or bus, walk and explore the city on foot.

Get accustomed to the people! Look at widows and orphans! And at least once a day, say to yourself: "I am the same as they are." Yeah, you're one of them, a girl! Moreover. Art, before giving wings to man so that he could fly up, usually breaks his leg. And if the day will come when you will feel above the audience, immediately catch the scene. At the first taxi travel to the outskirts of Paris. I know them very well! There you will see a lot of dancers like you even more beautiful, graceful, with great pride. Dazzling limelight of your theater will not be there at all. Searchlight for them - Moon.

Just look carefully, look closely! Do they not dance better than you? Admit it, my girl! Always, there is one who dances better than you, who play better than you! And remember: in the family, Charlie was not a boor, who swore to the cab or mocked a beggar sitting on the banks of the Seine. I'll die, but you will live. I want you never knew poverty. With this letter I am sending you a check book, so you could spend as you wish. But when spend two francs, do not forget to remind ourselves that the third coin - not yours. It must belong to a stranger who needed it. And this you can easily find. One has only to want to see these poor strangers, and you meet them everywhere. I speak to you about the money, because they knew the devil's power. I spent a lot of time in the circus. And always very worried about tightrope walkers.

But I must tell you that people are more likely to fall on hard ground than the walkers with unreliable rope. Maybe one of you Formal Evening bedazzle any diamond. At the same time he will be dangerous for you rope, and falling for you is inevitable. Maybe one day you will captivate the beautiful face of a prince. On the same day, you will be inexperienced tightrope walker and inexperienced always fall. Do not sell your heart for gold and jewelry. Know that most huge diamond - the sun. Fortunately, it shines for all. And when the time comes, and you love, you love this man with all my heart. I told your mother that she has written to you about it. She understands love me anymore, and her very best to talk to you about it. Work hard at you, I know it.

Your body is covered with a piece of silk. For the sake of art can appear on stage and bare, but there must return not only dressed, but also cleaner. I am old, and maybe my words sound funny. But, in my opinion, your naked body should belong to someone who will love your naked soul. Do not be afraid if your opinion on this question ten years ago, that is owned by the departing time. Fear not, these ten years not to grow old you. But be that as it may, I want you to be the last man of the people who will be the subjects of the island. I know that fathers and children are the eternal duel between themselves. Voyuy with me, with my thoughts, my girl! I do not like obedient children. And while my eyes are not tears flowed to this letter, I want to believe that today's Christmas night - the night of miracles.

I want to see a miracle happened, and all you really understood what I wanted to tell you. Charlie has already grown old, Geraldine. Sooner or later, instead of a white dress for the scene you'll have to put on mourning, to come to my grave. Now I do not want to upset you. Only from time to time to peer into the mirror - there you will see my features. In your veins my blood. Even when the blood in my veins is cool, I wish you had not forgotten his father Charlie. I was not an angel, but always aspired to be a man. Try and you.

I kiss you, Geraldine. Your Charlie. December 1965 & quot;

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