America was sitting in front of a painting, his eyes lost on the canvas. The vibrant image reflected a landscape of golden fields under a blue sky, but the true beauty of the painting was not just in the colors, but in the memories it evoked.

The painting:

"How I miss you, my love," America murmured, his voice full of nostalgia. Her mind traveled to shared moments, laughter in that same field, where she and her beloved used to run free like butterflies. "You and me... always together."

As melancholy enveloped his heart, the childish voice broke the silence. "Dad! Dad! Look what I did!" echoed in the room. The sound of childish laughter filled the air and America smiled, remembering his little girl, whom he had named after his beloved.

"What is it, the rustic states?" America asked tenderly, using the nickname he had given his daughter out of curiosity and the pure energy that emanated from her. "It's time to do the painting," said the little girl excitedly. The innocence in her daughter's voice made America feel more connected than ever.

Minutes later, the little artist looked at her creation with her bright eyes. "Wow, I look beautiful!" He exclaimed, admiring the portrait he had created on paper, a version of his mother that he had managed to capture on that canvas. America felt like he was seeing his beloved again, caught through his daughter's eyes.

The afternoon passed slowly, full of laughter, paintings and longings. America had a deep sense of connection between the present and the past, between those stolen moments of happiness and the legacy it had left behind. All was not lost; Her love continued alive in that little girl who now looked at her with admiration.

Fin