Charlie Chaplin's letter to his daughter.

Charlie Chaplin, a father of 12 children, in 1965, being a wise old man of 76 years old, wrote a letter to his twenty-one-year-old daughter Geraldine, who was looking for herself in dance on the Parisian stage. The letter is emotional, deeply personal, but at the same time suitable for each of us.

This is an example of a father's love and care, sadness and joy, pride and worries, accumulated wisdom and childhood preserved in him. "I have never been an angel," wrote the genius of cinema, "but I have always aspired to be a man. Do your best."

Read this letter and think about what your parents taught you and what you would like to teach your children.

"My girl!

It's night now. Christmas night. All the armed warriors of my small fortress have fallen asleep. Your brother and your sister are sleeping. Even your mother is already asleep. I almost woke up the sleeping chicks on my way to this half-lit room. How far you are from me! But let me go blind if your image is not always before my eyes. Your portrait is here on the table, and here, near my heart. Where are you? There, in fabulous Paris, you dance on the majestic theater stage on the Champs-Elysées. I know it well, and yet it seems to me that in the silence of the night I hear your footsteps, I see your eyes that shine like stars in the winter sky.

I hear that in this festive and bright performance you play the role of a Persian beauty captured by the Tatar Khan. Be beautiful and dance! Be a star and shine! But if the delight and gratitude of the audience intoxicates you, if the aroma of the presented flowers makes your head spin, then sit in a corner and read my letter, listen to the voice of your heart. I'm your father, Geraldine! I'm Charlie, Charlie Chaplin! Do you know how many nights I used to sit by your bed when you were just a baby, telling you tales of the sleeping beauty, of the waking dragon? And when sleep swept away my old eyes, I mocked him and said: "Go away! My dream is my daughter's dreams!"

I have seen your dreams, Geraldine, I have seen your future, your present day. I saw a girl dancing on stage, a fairy gliding through the sky. I heard the audience told: "Do you see this girl? She is the daughter of an old jester. Remember his name was Charlie?" I'm an old buffoon! Today is your turn. Dance! I danced in wide torn trousers, and you dance in the silk dress of a princess. These dances and thunderous applause will sometimes take you to heaven. Fly! Fly there! But come down to earth! You must see the life of people, the life of those street dancers who dance, shivering from cold and hunger. I was like them, Geraldine. In those nights, in those magical nights, when you fell asleep, lulled by my fairy tales, I was awake.

I looked at your face, listened to the beats of your heart, and asked myself, "Charlie, will this kitten ever know you?" I told you many fairy tales in those distant nights, but I never told my fairy tale. And it is also interesting. This is a fairy tale about a hungry jester who sang and danced in poor quarters of London, and then collected alms. Here it is, my fairy tale! I have learned what hunger is, what it is like to have no roof over one's head. Moreover, I experienced the humiliating pain of a wandering jester, in whose chest a whole ocean of pride raged, and this pride was painfully wounded by the thrown coins. And yet I'm alive, so let's leave it at that.

Let's talk about you. Your name, Geraldine, is followed by my last name, Chaplin. With this name, for more than forty years, I made people laugh on earth. But I cried more than they laughed. Geraldine, in the world you live in, there is not only dancing and music! At midnight, when you leave the huge hall, you may forget the rich admirers, but don't forget to ask the taxi driver who will take you home about his wife. And if she's pregnant, if they don't have money for diapers for the unborn baby, put the money in his pocket. I ordered the bank to pay for these expenses of yours. But pay everyone else strictly according to the bill. Take the subway or bus from time to time, walk and explore the city.

Look closely at the people! Look at widows and orphans! And at least once a day, say to yourself: "I'm just like them." Yes, you are one of them, girl! Nay. Art, before giving a man wings so that he can fly upwards, usually breaks his legs. And if the day comes when you feel above the audience, immediately drop the stage. Take the first taxi to the outskirts of Paris. I know them very well! There you will see many dancers like you, even more beautiful, more graceful, with more pride. The dazzling light of the spotlights of your theater will not be there at all. The spotlight for them is the Moon.

Look closely, look closely! Don't they dance better than you? Admit it, my girl! There will always be someone who dances better than you, who plays better than you! And remember, there was no rude man in Charlie's family who would swear at a cabman or make fun of a beggar sitting on the banks of the Seine. I will die, but you will live. I want you to never know poverty. With this letter I am sending you a checkbook so that you can spend as much as you wish. But when you've spent two francs, don't forget to remind yourself that the third coin is not yours. It should belong to a stranger who needs it. And you can easily find such a person. You only have to want to see these strange poor people, and you will meet them everywhere. I am talking to you about money, for I have come to know its diabolical power. I spent a lot of time in the circus. And he was always very worried about tightrope walkers.

But I must tell you that people are more likely to fall on solid ground than tightrope walkers from an unreliable rope. Perhaps at one of the parties you will be dazzled by the glitter of some diamond. At the same moment, he will become a dangerous rope for you, and a fall is inevitable for you. Perhaps one day you will be captivated by the handsome face of some prince. On the same day, you will become an inexperienced tightrope walker, and the inexperienced always fall. Do not sell your heart for gold and jewelry. Know that the biggest diamond is the sun. Fortunately, it sparkles for everyone. And when the time comes, and you fall in love, then love this person with all your heart. I told your mother to write to you about it. She understands love more than I do, and she'd better talk to you about it herself. Your work is difficult, I know that.

Your body is covered only by a piece of silk. For the sake of art, you can appear on the stage naked, but you need to return from there not only dressed, but also cleaner. I'm old, and maybe my words sound ridiculous. But in my opinion, your naked body should belong to someone who will love your naked soul. It's not a big deal if your opinion on this issue is ten years old, that is, it belongs to the passing of time. Don't be afraid, these ten years won't make you old. But whatever the case, I want you to be the last person to become a subject of the island. I know that fathers and sons are engaged in an eternal duel with each other. Fight with me, with my thoughts, my girl! I don't like obedient children. And before tears flow from my eyes for this letter, I want to believe that tonight Christmas night is a night of miracles.

I want a miracle to happen, and you really understand everything I wanted to tell you. Charlie is already old, Geraldine. Sooner or later, instead of a white dress for the stage, you will have to wear mourning to come to my grave. I don't want to upset you now. Just look in the mirror from time to time - there you will see my features. My blood flows in your veins. Even when the blood in my veins is cold, I want you not to forget your father, Charlie. I was not an angel, but I always aspired to be human. Do your best.

I kiss you, Geraldine. Your Charlie. December 1965."