His Little Princess

She had stood this way for some minutes, when all of a sudden she let out an excited squeal and a shriek. "Daddy!" she yelled and went running for the front door, twin pigtails flying.

The door burst open and a tall man with a great smile on his face, swept Gwendolyn up into his powerful arms and spun her around. She giggled and laughed. "Spin me, Daddy, spin me!" she cried happily and raised her arms to the sky as if she were flying.

When he stopped spinning, he held her close. "How's my princess doing today?" he whispered tenderly against her hair, and he listened to her constant chatter with an amused, loving smile on his face.

These were the memories that remained the sharpest, the clearest, in her mind.

Gwendolyn leaned forward in the hard plastic chair. She was taller now, and the sparkle had left her blue eyes, leaving a sadness and a regret etched deep on her face. She was twenty now.

The sound of the heart monitor's rhythmic beeping left her feeling shaky and weak as she watched the man in the bed, as his chest rose and fell.

"Dad?" she whispered tentatively, and reached out to wrap her fingers around a hand, limp against the bed sheets. She could still feel the faint callouses there, but the strength was gone.

A tear dropped from her eyelashes to stain her blue jeans with a dark splotch.

Dad's eyes fluttered open to stare at the ceiling. He slowly turned his head to look at her. "Hey," his voice was heart-wrenchingly weak and he couldn't seem to manage a smile, though it's ghost could be seen on the corners of his lips. "How's my princess doing?"

Gwendolyn's face dissolved into anguish. "Daddy," she cried softly and shook her head. "I'm so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?"

"Forgive you?" he whispered.

Gwendolyn wiped at her tears with the back of her arm, and gripped his hand tightly. "For leaving like I did. For being so angry..."

"Gwen, I'll always forgive you. I love you," Dad insisted.

"But I was so awful to you," Gwendolyn said. "I thought I knew what I wanted, and I told myself you just wanted to make life miserable for me by saying no. I ran away, and I'm so ashamed of it. And it turns out you were right all along. I couldn't find happiness out in the world, no matter what I tried or where I went. I was miserable!"

Dad reached out and touched her cheek lightly, before dropping his hand again, too weak and tired. "I'm leaving this earth, Gwen. You'll have to take care of yourself now, and you'll have to remember how to face the world with courage, like I taught you. Happiness comes from within, you can't find it in material things, because sooner or later they will all fade away."

Gwendolyn shook her head again. "Dad, I don't think I can survive without you," she said desperately. "I love you too much. Please, you can't leave me now."

Dad smiled faintly. "Yes, you can survive. And you'll be happy."

"How?" Gwendolyn blurted.

"Because you came home," Dad whispered. "Life will always throw stuff at you, and sometimes you'll think it is too much, but if you hold on to what is important, nothing else will matter much. I've already taught you everything you need to know. I've given my best for you, now its your turn to give your best to the world. You can do it." His voice began to fade. "You're my little princess, after all."

Those were the last words Gwendolyn heard from him. He slept, and the doctor urged her to go home and get some rest. When she returned early the following morning, he was already gone.

A year passed, and Gwendolyn was sitting in her small, studio apartment after work one evening, when she found an envelope tucked inside her dad's favorite book. Her name was written on the front. The single sheet of paper inside said only "Now you are His" in her dad's handwriting.

The place where the envelope had rested had an underlined passage in the book with her name written beside it. "The LORD will guide you always; He will satisfy your needs in a sun-scorched land and will strengthen your frame. You will be like a well-watered garden, like a spring whose waters never fail."