If we're gonna speak of the childhood tears, then I'm going to describe the scene that will always haunt me when I close my eyes at night.
It's after you spend an entire day with a jolly, stout, old man: he helps a flower bloom in shade, sings a song to a crying child, and gives a mugger hope for the future. He then travels to the top of hill, with a tree providing him shade from the setting sun. He takes out a picture, ignites some incense, then sings a song as he begins to cry.
If you know what I'm talking about, then you know what I'm talking about.