It’s not the events, it’s how we think about the events…

At 40, Franz Kafka (1883-1924), who never married or had children, while walking through a park in Berlin, encountered a girl who was crying because she had lost her favourite doll. Touched and moved by her disappointment and sadness, he helped her look for her doll.
Their search was unsuccessful.
Kafka told her he would come help her look again the next day, but they still failed to find the girl’s doll.
So, he gave her a letter, written by the doll, saying “please don’t cry. I took a trip to see the world. I will write letters to you about my adventures.”
Thus began a story which continued until the end of Kafka’s life
During their catch-ups in the park, Kafka read the letters from the doll, carefully written with all of her adventures.
Finally, after some time, Kafka decided to bring the girl’s doll back to her (he bought one). Her beloved doll had finally returned to Berlin.
“This doesn’t look like my doll at all!” said the girl.
Kafka handed her another letter in which the doll wrote, “my travels have changed me.” She hugged her new doll, and took her home
A year later, Kafka died.
When the girl had grown to adulthood, she found inside the doll (still a treasured possession) a tiny letter, signed by Kafka:
“Everything you love will probably be lost, but in the end, love will return in another way.”