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Show 7M Aunt Helga1 led us in some rounds. I watched Melissa, Aunt Helga's promised child, as she sang. She. had become a young woman, her round blue eyes and firm mouth suggesting centuries of wisdom. She sang each word surely,reflecting the confidence of her mother. I knew that she loved babies and that she had talked of getting married although she wasn't yet seventeen. I shook my head involuntarily. Seventeen is so young and eternity is for such a long, long time. . . After closing prayer, I made my way through kisses and hugs and questions toward my father. Already he was occupied. One mother needed a chiropractic correction for her back. Another requested a special blessing. I waited outside the room, feeling unworthy to watch. I felt I saw or understood too much - that I was old and they were young. When my father was finished, he hurried out in a bobbing, jerking way. People were following him. I stepped in front of him. "Daddy, I have to talk to you." "What can I do for you, dear?" He said those words to everyone who asked his time. "Daddy - I've been having dreams..." My eyes flooded over and suddenly I was a little girl, again with a skinned knee, a out finger, a broken arm. Please, Daddy, don't tell me we'll have to cut it off. „AimH uq it seemed they I felt the others clustering around us. Bnt I had moved away so many pushed me, tested my resolve. But i , „ v,-™ -i-piling myself I was times when others had asked for him, telling , •+ .mr.P Now it was my turn, my strong enough to make it alone, INUW time with him. I needed his blessing. "What sort of dreams, dear?" I too, a breath. "Horrible dreams and beautiful dreams |
