LIKE FATHER, LIKE FATHER


When I was a baby, you — a new father — cradled me in mighty arms
and gazed adoringly
at your newest creation.
Your eyes twinkled —
because you loved me.

When I was six, I thought you were invincible.
I was Daddy’s little girl.
I ran to you with broken toys and skinned-up knees
and waited for you to make my hurts go away.
your hands healed —
because you loved me.

When I was eighteen, full of pride,
I took my broken heart and skinned-up hopes
and tried to mend them myself.
your wise head shook at the mess I made,
but your heart forgave —
because you loved me.

Now, I am a woman all alone —
I need you more than ever..
At midnight, when Worry dangles over my head
my broken life and skinned-up soul,
I bring them to our Father
and awake at dawn with spirit serene.
His fingers soothe — as yours —
because you love me.

** Kim K. Terry **

In memory of my daddy, Chem Terry, who died three weeks before my brain tumor was discovered. Published in Christian Bible Teacher in February 1998.

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