The Long Walk


I dreaded the sound of the voice coming at me across the parking lot, calling me to the car.  I was already where I wanted to be and did not welcome the prospect of leaving.

I whimpered.  My eyes watered.  I let out a cry.

He turned to look at me.  I shuddered.  What was about to happen?  I could not tell from looking at his eyes.  His expression did not betray what was inside.

At that point, the short distance across the parking lot seemed like miles.  Either I would have to cross the space and give in to what I did not want to do.  Or he would span the distance in long strides and bring almost certain punishment for my resistance to obey.

I did not budge.  He started my way.  What I expected to be anger did not come to be, however.  His face actually mirrored mine, as if he understood that I did not want to go.  He extended his hand, but not to grab me or scold me.  He reached for my hand, and I gave it.  Then the long walk did not seem so long.  I did not have to do it alone.  Then, an experience that I feared would be terrible actually taught me that my daddy will always be there to help me.

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2 thoughts on “The Long Walk”

  1. it a different story in our house What Mom is for Daddy irons, Mom says Iron what? wenrklid is good Daddy matches, Mom says stripes and dots all the way! Daddy stays clean, Mom says it’s dirt, not the end of the world Mom starts water fights, Daddy screams. Really, but he’s funIn fact, I was thinking .I would really have to hide this from John if I ever had the opportunity to let my kids do it. He would FREAK.So fun! Where’s the football???? See what I mean? Makes me want to be a camp counselor again .

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