"In the beginning"


The views expressed in this blog are not necessarily the views of the blog management, (on the other hand, they are not necessarily not the views of the blog management).

No effort has been made to stay within the bounds of the truth in this blog as it has always been the view of the management that the truth should never be allowed to stand in the way of a good story.

Thursday, October 20, 2005

A Dad’s Poem.

Her hair was in a pony tail,

her favourite dress tied with a bow.

Today was Daddy’s Day at school,

and she couldn’t wait to go.

But her mommy tried to tell her,

that she probably should stay home.

Why the kids might not understand,

if she went to school alone.

But she was not afraid;

she knew just what to say.

What to tell her classmates

of why he wasn’t there today.

But still her mother worried,

for her to face this day alone.

And that was why once more,

she tried to keep her daughter home.

The little girl went off to school

eager to tell them all.

About a dad she never sees

a dad who never calls.

There were daddies along the back wall,

for everyone to meet.

Children squirmed impatiently,

anxious in their seats.

One by one the teacher called

a student from the class.

To introduce their daddy,

as seconds slowly passed.

At last the teacher called her name,

every child turned to stare.

Each of them was searching,

for a man who wasn’t there.

“Where’s her daddy at?”

She heard a boy call out.

“She probably doesn’t have one.”

another student dared to shout.

And from somewhere up the back,

she heard a daddy say,

“Looks like another deadbeat dad,

too busy to waste his day."

The words did not offend her,

as she smiled up at her mom.

And looked back at her teacher,

who told her to go on.

With hands behind her back,

slowly she began to speak.

And from the mouth of this child,

came words incredibly unique.

“My daddy couldn’t be here,

because he lives so far away.

But I know he wishes he could be,

since this is such a special day.”

“And though you cannot meet him,

I wanted you to know,

all about my daddy,

and how he loves me so.”

“He loved to tell me stories,

he taught me to ride my bike.

He surprised me with pink roses,

and taught me to fly a kite.”

“We used to share fudge sundaes,

and ice-cream in a cone.

And though you cannot see him,

I’m not standing here alone."

“Cause my daddy’s always with me,

even though we are apart,

I know because he told me,

he is forever in my heart.”

With that her little hand reached up,

and lay across her chest.

Feeling her own heartbeat,

beneath her favourite dress.

From up there in the crowd of dads,

her mother stood in tears.

As she proudly watched her daughter,

who was wise beyond her years.

For she stood up for the love,

of a man not in her life.

Doing what was best for her,

doing what was right.

When she dropped her hands back down,

staring straight into the crowd.

She finished with a voice so soft,

but a message clear and loud.

“I love my daddy very much,

he is my shining star.

And if he could he’d be here,

but heaven’s just too far.”

“You see he was a policeman,

he died just last year.

When those airplanes hit the towers,

and taught Americans to fear.”

“But sometimes when I close my eyes,

it’s like he never went away.”

And then she closed her eyes,

and saw him there that day.

And to her moms amazement,

she witnessed with surprise.

A room full of dads and children,

all starting to close their eyes.

Who knows what they saw before them,

who knows what they felt inside.

Perhaps just for a second,

they saw him by her side.

“I know you’re with me daddy.”

To the silence she called out.

What happened next made believers,

of those once filled with doubt.

None in that room could explain it,

for each of their eyes had been closed.

But there on the desk beside her,

was a fragrant long-stemmed pink rose.

A child was blessed in that moment,

by the love of her shining star.

Was given the gift of believing,

that heaven is never too far.

I have no idea who wrote that, my sister sent it to me, thanks Merle.

I hope it doesn’t open up wounds for any who lost loved ones on that horrific day,

I’m not ashamed to say I cried while I typed it.


Merle said...

Hi Peter, I thought you might like that story. I loved it. Kim sent it to me in an e-mail.

I saw an article on pronounciation
the other day - Why is Kansas said as it sounds but Arkansas is pronounced as Ark-en-saw?

WordWhiz said...

I cried when I read it. Thanks.

Jeanette said...

Hi Peter
Hi Merle
Beautifull poem shed a tear or 2,

Theresa said...

The least you could do is provide tissues...beautiful.

Peter said...

Hi folks, I'm still trying to work out who to bill for the box of tissues I used while typing, OK so I'm a slow typist.
I doubt if my sister will come good with the tissues!!
One of the most moving yet simple poems I've ever come across, right up there with Alan Jacksons "Where were you when the world stopped turning."

bubba said...

Can I borrow that one?

Maria said...

And I am not afraid to say I cried when I read it. Beautiful poem and I am glad you shared it with all of us.

No_Newz said...

:( I liked those jokes below better. Sad stuff makes me.... sad.
Lois Lane

Peter said...

Hi Bubba, sure you can borrow that poem, as I did,
I wish I knew who wrote it so I could have asked their permission.

Maria, it sure touches a nerve.

Lois, sorry to make you feel sad,
Y'all come back now, coz most of my stuff runs more to funny (I hope) than sad.