Today at the quickie mart counter, a four-year-old girl and her father stood next to each other. Picture mini-her next to giant-him. The image alone was adorable.
The girl was tall for her age and spindly, as if she hadn't grown into her arms and legs yet. Dressed in a pink/black striped sundress and glass slippers (plastic), with her hair in messy, black braids, she was a beauty with almond-shaped, brown eyes. Eagerly, she grabbed for chips, candy, and whatever was close enough for her to touch.
Each time she reached out with her tiny fingers, her father's giant hand swooped in, gently pressing her back.
Dancing around, still trying to steal some treats, she laughed.
Smiling all teeth, her father took her hand and said, "Now, if you keep trying for all that other stuff, we won't buy the gum, see?"
Wide-eyed, she thought it over, then stared at him and nodded, folding her arms, leaning her small weight from foot to foot, rethinking it again, as if she were pondering world politics or the origins of God.
"Do you still want the gum?" her father asked, setting two packs of gum and two drinks on the counter.
Then all at once, she decided, and her face grew serious. She shouted, "Yes! I want the gum!"
"All right then, none of that other stuff, okay?" he said, still grinning.
"Okay!" she agreed, biting her lip, awaiting her prized gum.
As they walked out of the store, she grabbed his leg and gripped at his pants.
Feeling her there, he slowed his walk so that she could hold on.
Oftentimes, people write or tell stories about sad, difficult, or downright scary parenting, but what I saw today was hopeful and priceless. In this small interaction, a loving father taught his daughter about moderation, honesty, choices, responsibility, how to make decisions, and the importance of using others for direction and support. Making sure she made the right choice for her, she suddenly became special and unique to him, to herself, and to the world. And in the end, outside, by letting her hold on, he let her know that she could count on him; he even changed his stride to make it work for her as well.
It was one of the most beautiful father/daughter interactions I've seen in a while. In the parking lot, right behind them, I said to the girl, "How old are you? Twenty?"
Big-eyed, still holding on to her father's pants, the four-year-old beamed, looking up at him, clearly checking in with him before responding to me.
He glanced at me, then nodded at her, encouraging her to speak. "It's all right," he said softly.
C.A. MacConnell
