A grateful heart

When I was a little girl, my father would bring me a new story book every Friday.  My parents were very careful with money but in this way--as in so many--they indulged me. My Dad read to me every night.  I remember a book about a friendship between a boy and his horse that I asked him to read over and over again. He never complained or rolled his eyes. Then he would sing me to sleep.


My father worked long hours during the week and had Army Reserve duties on Saturdays but spent all day Sunday playing with me. He would make me cinnamon toast and cut it up into dozens of tiny pieces. father_reads_to_child.jpg He’d remember to bring sandwich bags of Easter candy to the park for a snack. He says that he probably laughed more watching  ‘The Muppet Show’ together than I did.


As an adult I have been very grateful for my father’s encouragement. When I graduated from college I remember his beaming smile as we all processed away with our scrolls. He blew me a kiss as I walked by.  Aside from my husband, my Dad is my greatest champion.  He has always urged me to believe in and follow my dreams.

My father stands before me
In a place that’s his alone
I’m guided to the future
I have the world to roam
I stand up and I’m counted
A million miles from home
I can see forever
In my father’s eyes

                       --Livingston Taylor

 I think many of us have countless snapshots in our hearts of treasured moments with our Dads.  What are some of yours?

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