Fatherhood

Yesterday, Dad and I went on our "Daddy-Daughter Date", a tradition he's done with his three daughters for at least the last 17 years. He takes us out for our birthday for a meal, and then to the nearby Poor Clare Monastery for Evening Vespers. My birthday was actually over two months ago, but we didn't have a chance to go out before now. :)

This time, instead of a restaurant, Mom and Sarah packed us a lovely picnic basket, which we took to a nearby greenhouse/botanical gardens sort of place. The outdoor beds seemed to be in a state of transition, so we found a sweet little bench inside the greenhouse and under a palm tree, spread the picnic cloth over our laps, and enjoyed our meal. We both agreed that it was the most fun yet!

When I was younger, I used to not realize just how privileged I am to have a father like this. In recent years, I have realized. And I was so strongly reminded of this tonight, when a few of us went on an evening walk and ran into a young girl trying to find a friend's house (which she'd never been to). In helping her locate the address, we got to know one another. At nineteen, this young girl had been through so many hardships. She mentioned leaving home at 15, and that her dad "was abusive and stuff". Just having enjoyed a beautiful afternoon of prayer and bonding with my father, I couldn't help but notice the painful contrast. And thank the Father for bestowing such gifts.

My Dad is the Best

I mean, how many guys would volunteer—cheerfully and instantaneously—to go out into a blowing, frigid winter storm at 11:30pm just to get a couple items that I said I needed from the van?

I'm one lucky girl. Rather, one blessed girl. Love you, Dad!