“Papa, I’m scared.”
I heard my sweet munchkin’s voice, but I wasn’t sure if I dreamt it or whether it was really her, my five-year-old granddaughter, Violet, at the side of our bed.
“I had a bad dream” she said.
“Here, Violet” I whispered. I flipped the covers open and patted the bottom sheet, “Jump up”.
I reached out to lift her.
As I pulled the blankets up, I felt the warmth of her body against mine, I inhaled her delectable essence.
“I dreamed about skeletons. It was so scary.” she shared.
I patted her back.
I wondered to myself, how many moments in my life will I get like this? And when they come will I remember to receive them?
Violet will grow up. She will discover other ways of assuaging her fears. God willing, she will be here long after I am gone.
But for now, there is this: a child’s need became her Papa’s gift.