My Father, My Hero
Posted on June 16, 2009 - by Yvonne Lancaster
When I was a little girl, I fell from our tree swing. I was gently picked up and carried into the house where Band-Aids were carefully placed on my scuffed-up knees. My tears were dried with methodic tender dabs. Through my sobs, I could hear the calming and reassuring words of my father, who we called Papa, “It’s alright, Pee Wee. You’ll be just fine. No more tears, now,” he said. This was one instance of the many rescues my father took part in throughout my girlhood years. It doesn’t seem that long ago. I was his front-seat passenger, tagging […]
Read More