There is a saying in German; When you travel you have a story to tell . Well, I have a story to share with you from our trip to Mallorca.

On our last day the weather was foggy, cold and windy. I hate that kind of weather in Germany, but when I'm on the ocean, -- any ocean, I love it.

While Hubby and I were taking a walk along the ocean side, we saw something terrible. It was high tide and huge waves were crashing against the cliffs. At the edge of one of the rocks we spotted a thin man, clad in raingear standing tall and upright under each ocean spray. The mist encompassed him till he almost disappeared, creating the ever repeating illusion that he had been swept off the cliff and into the ocean.

Now if this weren't bad enough, we saw a young girl, about nine years old, scamper across the slippery rocks towards the man. She was drenched to the bone, her wet hair plastered to her small head. She tugged at the man's sleeve, but the man shook the girl off his arm. He laughed and seemed to make a sport of it. Then just before a new wave rolled in, ready to break across the cliffs, the child fled from the cliff's edge like a frightened little Sandpiper.

No, we couldn't hear her screaming over the ocean noise, but I'm sure she was. Was he the girl's father? – I think so. We climbed over the rocks towards the girl, who was standing within a safe distance from the breaking waves. She was terribly pale and thin and crying. I asked her in English, and then in German, if we could help her. She didn't even look at me.

Then I spoke the few words of Spanish that I know;" Hola Muchacha, ¿Puedo ayudarle?" Which means hello little girl can I help you?...(At least I hope it means that). I stretched my hand out to her. She hardly took notice of me and darted away. She ran so fast, and was gone behind some boulders and into the dense bushes that grew along the top of the cliffs.

Hubby and I looked back and the man was gone. I have no idea if he was torn off the cliff or if he just left. We rushed to the rocks and didn't see anyone; no one. The sounds of the crashing waves seemed louder than ever. Hubby and I searched as long as we could through the bushes, but found no sign of the child. We had to break off to get back to the hotel and get my mother and her friend to the airport bus.

That night I hardly slept a wink; the pictures just kept coming back. Oh how my heart goes out to this fragile child. How many children live horrifying lives because their parents are mentally unstable? I'm sorry to say, I think that is exactly what we had witnessed.