I watched a father out of my window today. He walked along the footpath, arms full of child. My eyes took in his leaned-back gait and the way he held his head, slightly off centre. The toddler’s back faced me. I only saw the pair for a few moments, but I could tell the child was fast asleep. I could tell by how the father walked, with even steps and a slightly angled body in an effort to hold the small relaxed figure. I could tell by how the father held his head against the child’s blonde hair, to further support the limp form. In one glance, I saw a beautiful picture of fatherhood: of the men who give equal measures of strength and gentleness to their children. I honour them.
One of the little stories I shared on my Facebook page and you can read the associated discussion here.