My children will only be little once. I want to hang on to these memories forever, and lest I forget some of these sweet memories, I plan on committing a few to writing. The other day my daughter, Abigail, pointed to the ceiling and said, "I can't touch the sky. I'm too little."
I could have said something inspiring like, "Reach and you'll touch it," or "You'll see; you'll get bigger, and touch the sky before you know it. Instead, Abby said something else.
"Help me touch the sky, Daddy."
So beautiful. In light of the seemingly insurmountable, my daughter looks to me for help. Such faith. Such trust. Daddy can do anything. Daddy can help me touch the sky. I picked her up, lifted her with one hand, balancing her with the other. I could have easily touched her head to the ceiling, but I held her short. "Let go, Abby, touch the sky." Up until this point her arms were wrapped around mine. Cautiously she let go, extended her arm, and reached. She touched the sky.
I brought her down and gave her a big hug. "You did it! You touched the sky!" I was as excited as a proud father could be. To Abby, there are no limitations as long as Daddy is there. While I know that my own limitations will someday become very apparent to her, I want to help my little girl touch the sky and accomplish her dreams as long as I am able.