the snow started coming down and eleanor wanted to build a snowman with her dad. she waited patiently. she let her wishes be known. she left the request on her father’s ear.
we were busy. abe had a dance on friday night. saturday was special olympics and dinner at my parents. kids stayed the night over in buscia’s new kitchen. we located a new, delicious indian restaurant in a strip mall. we bought records.
life was full and fun.
and the snow kept falling and a little girl, our littlest, kept waiting.
at home we dropped overnight bags in the hallway. i thought maybe we’d eat cereal for dinner, but joshua was nowhere to be found.
through the window we saw him out front rolling snow into men. eleanor clapped with joy and pulled the snow pants back on.
her dad was good to his word.
the snowmen took over the front yard.
neighbors stopped over to admire the work.
cars slowed down to take a second look.
later we kicked off snowy boots, unwound frozen scarves. we pulled off wet socks and started the last fire of the season.
what makes a child believe?
what gives confidence that snow can become more than a chore?
a good father.
to know that you know that when you share your heart, your father hears your hope and comes through.
to know that you are loved and that what you want to happen will be done bigger and better than you could have imagined.
some fathers are flesh and blood.
but there is a father.
one that hears your prayers.
and he holds your hopes on his ear and does not forget.