A starry sky twinkled above them as the summer night air softly fell around them. Spread out on a chaise lounge in the middle of the yard both wearing shorts and matching soft, white, cotton tank tops laid a little girl barely six and her daddy. The man was not her biological father but had been present in her life since the age of two and at this time he was all she knew.
I am that Daddy’s girl. Fifty years later and this memory along with adventures in fishing and night crawler hunting are still very vivid in my mind. I’m thankful for these cherished few that take up all the space in my heart and mind over a few that weren’t so cherished.
Every little girl (and boy) needs a present, loving, daddy who protects and teaches them.
When our daughter was born her daddy called her his “little firefly” and she lives up to that name still. It does this mama’s heart good to know that her daughter is a daddy’s girl.