Daddy's Little Girl
"Will you tell Daddy for me?"
That was the worst part. At seventeen, telling my mom I was
pregnant was hard enough, but telling my dad was impossible. Daddy
had always been a constant source of courage in my life. He had
always looked at me with pride, and I had always tried to live my
life in a way that would make him proud. Until this. Now it would
all be shattered. I would no longer be Daddy's little girl. He
would never look at me the same again. I heaved a defeated sigh and
leaned against my mom for comfort.
"I'll have to take you somewhere while I tell your father. Do you
understand why?"
"Yes, Mama." Because he wouldn't be able to look at me, that's
why.
I went to spend the evening with the minister of our church,
Brother Lu, who was the only person I felt comfortable with at that
time. He counseled and consoled me, while Mom went home and called
my dad at work to break the news.
It was all so unreal. At that time, being with someone who didn't
judge me was a good thing. We prayed and talked, and I began to
accept and understand the road that lay ahead for me. Then I saw
the headlights in the window.
Mom had come back to take me home, and I knew Dad would be with
her. I was so afraid. I ran out of the living room and into the
small bathroom, closing and locking the door. Brother Lu followed
and gently reprimanded me.
"Missy, you can't do this. You have to face him sooner or later. He
isn't going home without you. C'mon."
"Okay, but will you stay with me? I'm scared."
"Of course, Missy. Of course." I opened the door and slowly
followed Brother Lu back to the living room. Mom and Dad still
hadn't come in yet. I figured they were sitting in the car,
preparing Dad for what to do or say when he saw me. Mom knew how
afraid I was. But it wasn't fear that my father would yell at me or
be angry with me. I wasn't afraid of him. It was the sadness in his
eyes that frightened me. The knowledge that I had been in trouble
and pain, and had not come to him for help and support. The
realization that I was no longer his little girl.
I heard the footsteps on the sidewalk and the light tap on the
wooden door. My lip began to quiver, opening a new floodgate of
tears, and I hid behind Brother Lu. Mom walked in first and hugged
him, then looked at me with a weak smile. Her eyes were swollen
from her own tears, and I was thankful she had not wept in front of
me. And then he was there. He didn't even shake Luther's hand, just
nodded as he swept by, coming to me and gathering me up into his
strong arms, holding me close as he whispered to me, "I love you. I
love you, and I will love your baby, too."
He didn't cry. Not my dad. But I felt him quiver against me. I knew
it took all of his control not to cry, and I was proud of him for
that. And thankful. When he pulled back and looked at me, there was
love and pride in his eyes. Even at that difficult moment.
"I'm sorry, Daddy. I love you so much."
"I know. Let's go home." And home we went. All of my fear was gone.
There would still be pain and trials that I could not even imagine.
But I had a strong, loving family that I knew would always be there
for me. Most of all, I was still Daddy's little girl, and armed
with that knowledge, there wasn't a mountain I couldn't climb or a
storm I couldn't weather.
Thank you, Daddy.
Michele Campbell
Daddy's Little Girl. Reprinted by permission of Michele Campbell
©1999
Michele Campbell
