Archive for December, 2011

The floor squeaked its high-pitched whimper as she turned from the hallway into the great room where he sat still majestic in his weakness. Deep within her soul something pure and strong warmed at the sight of her father, and when his eyes caught hers her whole body smiled. Eyes, sunken after weeks of treatment for the very thing that was taking him away from her, became brilliant in their eagerness to communicate what only a father could say to his child.

“I drew this for you, Daddy,” she said and held up the simplest of drawings. She didn’t notice the effort it took for him to lift his arm and reach out in welcome of her gift.

“Tell me more,” he whispered.

Slowly, as if with care not to disturb the dust on the floor, she stepped across the room and closer to her father. His frail fingers, once able to grab her and throw her high into the sky, grasped at the drawing. Thinking he had control of it, she let the paper go and it slipped into a seesaw tumble to the floor at their feet.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” she began but didn’t know what exactly she was sorry for. The words just came out so easily these days. Balancing herself by grabbing his knee, she bent down to get her drawing.  He hid his grimace and suppressed a groan at the pain she caused his body. He would hide it all if he could. When she straightened she placed the drawing on his lap and pointed to blobs she drew.

“This is you, Daddy. And this is me. See the sun here?” she asked, pointing to the top corner.

“I do.”

She beamed.

“What is this here, a cloud?” His voice raspy and weak.

“No, Daddy, that’s God. He’s waiting for you like you said.”

His eyes moved from the page up and into his daughter’s face. How mighty her strength.

“Do you know how much I love you?” he said.

They both knew it wasn’t a question.

“Tell me more.”


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