A Father's Love

My mind drifts back to a time as a little girl following my dad around the yard. 

He would sit me up on the porch, or a fence post, or in his workshop in the barn and let me ask him as many questions as possible.  As I thought of new topics, I would also watch him plant his garden, work on the flowers, or fix his cars.  It was good to be a daddy's girl on Pleasant Lane.

One day, as a five-year-old in pigtails, I heard something clink on the sidewalk.  Dad picked up a gold coin and exclaimed that my fairy godmother must have dropped it.  Suspicion ran though my mind, but also a colorful imagination couldn't help but figure my fairy godmother was somewhere hiding behind the dandelions.

As I grew older, my dad continued to answer my questions about the world.  He would tell me I could do or be anything I wanted to be.  His faith in me was something that held to me and pushed me when others doubted.  His voice always gently nudging me towards my potential.

On this Father's Day,  I am thankful to have a father who loves me and always wants the best for me.  I wish everyone could have a dad like mine.  Happy Father's Day.