My daddy is a bricklayer. He's always building weird stuff in our garden, 'projects' he calls them.
Nobody sees them as we live in the country, surrounded by trees on all sides.
Two years ago, he started his latest project, 'a present for Mummy' he whispered to me - 'a stairway to heaven'.
Every weekend he worked, brick by brick, step by step, until one afternoon when he said to the family, 'I've finished'.
The steps reached all the way to the sky.
We watched Mummy as she climbed the steps and disappeared into the clouds. We never saw her again.