As I play a game with my youngest daughter, I try to follow the rules of the game. I know that for her own benefit, I need to teach her how to graciously accept a setback. But with each roll of the dice, with each card that she uncovers, with each turn that she takes, I am inwardly holding my breath, secretly longing for her victory. Because it hurts me more than anything to see her sad, to feel the heaviness of her defeat.
Which is what makes me think about G‑d, and the “game” of life . . .

To anonymous from Camarillo CA I am that "daughter". And I watched this and my mother's videos many times. I am 11 now and then I was just like 6. I know now that she did that sometimes when I was little and I know now that she doesn't do that anymore. Don't worry there's nothing to "hide".