My memory of that day is vivid. The transformation had come suddenly, without warning. One moment she was a girl, my girl, the next moment a woman.
There she stood in our living room,a slightly dirty, awkward teenage. My feelings were undefinable but her feelings were mirrored by her apperance. Her Hair was as shaggy as those horrible jeans she wore. Her shirt, peace sign and all, had shrunk or did she show her belly only to offend me? Her figure was as a winter tree soon to bloom, giving no attention the the tearing wind around her. Hard, lean, her defiant posture conveyed a silent warning to those who knew her.
Now, impatiently she tore away the clothes of her childhood, like a cherry bud awaiting the promise of dawn, she slid into the newly completed outfit.
The scene was astounding , shocking to my senses. That is not my daughter. I did not want to reconize this foreign femininity so I grouped uneasily with my emotions in wonder and fear. Searching for the right facial expression, trying not to reveal my panic.
I retreated back into my memories of her childhood, refusing to accept what I saw. She was a floating vision in a beautiful costume as an Arabian bride. Transformed, her face was expectant with the promise of the future. Graceful, smooth, translucent as the gossamer fabric she fashioned. Her illusion of innocence faded away as her figure spoke of days to come.
Now soft, inviting she had a purpose, her bared belly was a commitment to life.
As I was walking in town, looking downward, watching cracks in the pavement move from in front of me, under me, disappearing one at a time. My thoughts were so diversified that I did not notice her until I nearly knocked her over.
Grabbing at the air with her skinny little arms, seeking to regain her footing, the little 3 year old girl fought very well and quickly placed herself upright. As she stood before me, straightening out her dress, she looked up and said, " Do you like my pretty dress?” She rambled on without waiting for an answer; "My mother made it for me".
"Why yes I do like it, so pretty, tell your mother she does fine work".
"Oh! I, I, I can, can't", she stuttered, "Daddy says she is up in Heaven, with grandpa". "But look, she kissed me here", pointing to a spot on her right shoulder, "And here", now the left shoulder, "And here, here, here," repeating herself as she pointed to a different place on the dress, spinning around almost like
A top. Most have been 12 spins and 25 different spots on that dress that was kissed by her mother.
I no longer could see only her dress, but also the fact that she was wrapped in her mother's love......................................
A group of professional people posed this question to a group of four through eight-year-olds, "What does love mean?" The answers they got were broader and deeper than anyone could have imagined. See what you think:
"Love is that first feeling you feel before all the bad stuff gets in the way."
"When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn't bend over and paint her toenails anymore. So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. “
"When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You know that your name is safe in their mouth."
"Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other."
"Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your french fries without making them give you any of theirs."
"Love is when someone hurts you. And you get so mad but you don't yell at them because you know it would hurt their feelings."
"Love is what makes you smile when you're tired."
"Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK."
"Love is when you kiss all the time. Then when you get tired of kissing,you still want to be together and you talk more. My mommy and daddy are like that. They look gross when they kiss."
"Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen."
"If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate."
"Love is hugging. Love is kissing. Love is saying no."
"When you tell someone something bad about yourself and you're scared they won't love you anymore. But then you get surprised because not only do they still love you, they love you even more."
"Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it everyday."
"Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well."
"During my piano recital, I was on a stage and scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling. He was the only one doing that. I wasn't scared anymore."
"My mommy loves me more than anybody. You don't see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night."
"Love is when mommy gives daddy the best piece of chicken."
"Love is when mommy sees daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Robert Redford."
"Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day."
"I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old clothes and has to go out and buy new ones."
"I let my big sister pick on me because my Mom says she only picks on me because she loves me. So I pick on my baby sister because I love her."
"Love cards like Valentine's cards say stuff on them that we'd like to say ourselves, but we wouldn't be caught dead saying."
"When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you."
"You really shouldn't say 'I love you' unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget."
"God could have said magic words to make the nails fall off the cross, but He didn't. That's love."
“The child in me says, Love is a four letter word we should use more often...........and really mean it (BRYSON)
This page and connecting pages: Copyright © 1996-2005 by Jack Leroy Bryson. All rights reserved. This site may be freely linked to but not duplicated in any fashion without my consent.
