Held back

It was the day the child had looked forward to her whole life. Ever since she could remember, she had been told of an unspeakably good and beautiful place, and of the journey to get there. After what felt like ages, her father told her she was ready to go. It was time.

They stepped out of the house early that morning, and her father began to lock the door behind them. “Hurry, dad!” the child cried, watching him slowly turn the key. Anticipation and butterflies swirled around in her stomach.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” the father laughed, sticking the keys in his pocket. They jumped off the porch, and the child grabbed his hand. Their great journey had begun. The destination? Unknown to her and beyond imagination.

As they strolled down the street, the child noticed that there were many other children too. These children, however, were running. They were completely unsupervised — no fathers in sight.   They seemed completely free and able to move at their own wild pace, and no one was holding them back.  They spun around, laughed, danced, and sang down the street. The child looked down at her little hand that was wrapped up tightly in her father’s. Feeling a sudden impatience, she lurched forward, tugging her father’s arm, begging him to move faster.

“Come on, let’s go faster,” she cried. But the father kept his steady pace.

“We’ll get there,” he said with a confident smile. “Don’t you worry.” Frustration and disappointment at his resolve to go at a leisurely pace crept into her heart.

Suddenly, the child saw one of her good friends rushing towards her. Her friend’s cheeks were flushed a pretty pink, and her hair was wispy and wild. Her eyes were wide and full of buzzing excitement.

“Hey! Why don’t you just let go of your dad and come with us?” Her friend cried, grabbing the child’s hand and tugging her a little towards the crowd.

“I can’t,” the child sighed. She glanced up at her father for a quick moment and then looked down.

Her friend laughed loudly. “Yes you can! You’re gonna miss the fun if you don’t! Your dad is SO SLOW! Come on!”

The child considered it for a moment. It might be better if she let go. After all, she wouldn’t be gone away from him completely. He could catch up. She just wanted to go a little bit faster. Surely, he would understand that. With the pace they were going, it seemed they were never going to get there.

But the child looked up at her father and he looked back. He seemed to know exactly what she was thinking. He seemed to know that she was considering letting go of his hand. Yet, he didn’t look angry. There was a sweet and compelling sort of look in his eyes.

The child sighed again. “No, you go ahead,” she found herself saying. Her friend looked bewildered and then coughed out a mocking laugh. “Too bad. Guess you aren’t as brave as I thought you were. Have fun with daddy slow-poke!” The child watched as her friend skipped away and faded into the herd of happy children.

Hot tears welled up in the child’s eyes. She felt so alone. She stopped moving, angry and hurt. Her father also stopped with her.

“Are you tired, little one?” He asked, stooping down to fix her flipped collar.

“No, I’m mad,” she blurted. Her face felt like fire and she stared stubbornly at the ground.

“Won’t you tell me why?” The gentleness in his voice irritated her more because she knew how kind he was and how silly she was being, but she kept her eyes down.

“Everyone else is so free! They can go where they want and move as quickly as they want. They don’t have any fathers to hold them back. Don’t you get it? Don’t you care? Don’t you want me to be as happy as they are?”

There was a long pause. The sound of laughter faded. The sudden silence unnerved her. She just wanted him to admit that he was wrong to hold her back. She wanted him to move out of the way. But he didn’t move. After what felt like an eternity, the silence broke.

“Why didn’t you leave me?” he asked.

“What?”

“Why didn’t you leave me when your friend asked you to? You had your chance and you didn’t take it.”

“I… um…” suddenly she felt embarrassed. She didn’t expect him to bring that up. She didn’t even know why she refused to go. But before she could stop herself, her tiny voice cried: “Because I…I think didn’t want to go without you.” She finally released her stubborn stare at the pavement and looked at him.

The creases in the corners of her father’s eyes deepened, and sweet satisfaction fell on his face.

“And I’m so glad you stayed,” he whispered, tucking her loose hair behind her ears.

He didn’t have to say anything else. She somehow knew that her father loved her more than anything else in the world. He was steadfast and sure, and she was young and foolish. He gave her the dignity to choose, and her choice was a reflection of the deepest longing in her heart — to be with him. Maybe the destination didn’t seem as important as the journey with him beside her.

But her heart was still heavy. She wrapped her little arms around his neck. She buried her runny nose in his collar. He held her for a long time as she cried.

“I just… I just wish I didn’t feel so alone.” She blubbered and babbled for a minute, and he held her tighter and tighter.

After a minute, he peeled her off of him, stood up, and turned her towards the street. “You think you’re the only one?”

In that moment, she realized that there were other children holding their father’s hand. Some were tugging, like she had done. Others were licking a melting ice cream cone while riding on their father’s shoulders. A few of the older kids were cracking jokes with their fathers, throwing their heads back in laughter. Some were behind, some were ahead, and some were right beside her.

“You see,” he whispered, “You aren’t alone.” She looked around in wonder, and a small smile spread across her face.

Then his tone became serious. “But maybe some will reach the destination sooner. Maybe some will stop moving, as we just did. Maybe some will let go of their father’s hand and start running ahead. Daughter, will you be alone then?” She looked up to him and wrapped her tiny fingers around his. This question hung suspended in the air for a few moments.

“No,” she breathed in and out, slowly. “I don’t think I ever will be.”

They continued on the journey, and the wild children continued to zoom past them and mock the child as she held her dad’s hand. Some called her a baby. Others called her a coward. A few even called her weak. But their taunts couldn’t make her let go of his hand, and she knew that they never would.