I remember seeing once, a father walking with his daughter. It was a beautiful picture. She was small, no older than three years old. He was a young father, no older than 30. He was tall and protective, towering over his little princess. They were walking 'hand in hand', well at least as close to hand in hand as was possible. The little girl had to stretch every part of her body to reach, and the father hunched over to ease her effort. The point of contact looked strong, and it seemed nothing would separate them, not easily anyway.
As they walked she skipped, and smiled. She was happy, she knew she was safe. He (the dad) looked at her and smiled in kind, he was proud! They talked between them, or so it seemed, but I was too far to be able to make any sense of it. Unexpectedly, the little girl dropped the balloon she had been holding in her free hand and it rolled very gently, almost in slow-motion, to the centre of the road that they and I were walking along. She quickly followed it, leaving her dad without notice. At that very moment a Range Rover reversed out of its parked position. It all happened very fast, but it seemed to last a lifetime. Imagine what it felt like for the father, who had had her in his hand only a moment before. Without a second thought, he followed, yelling and screaming. Which caring father wouldn't?
The ridiculously large car (for the size of the road), screeched to a stop. I stood still and watched as this drama unfolded in front of me. I was surprised the driver had noticed the little girl, or maybe the yells of the father had gotten his attention. The father picked her up in his arms, ran her back to the sidewalk and put her down. He shouted at her, still I watched. He looked angry and was shaking, seemed scared and was crying, nonetheless he shouted at her. She started crying too. Everything else around them and indeed me was still. The car drove off, he held her. He picked her up in his arms and held her more. I want to believe that in that moment, he whispered to her that he loved her, and cautioned her never to scare him like that again, but that is speculation. When I realized that I had planted myself in all the commotion and drama, I pepped myself up and carried on my way, passing them by.
As I walked to my destination that day, I thought (as I still often do) about what I had witnessed and realized the severity of what I could have seen, had things been a little different. What if the driver hadnt been vigilant, or even if the father hadn't been there? or quick to respond? The outcome as a result of alterations to the variables would have been very different and very tragic. Imagine it was your daughter or son, or perhaps brother or sister, who you have responsibility for; whose life is almost literally in your hand? What would go through your head at that moment?
Initially, I was confused that the fathers first response after bringing his daughter to safety had been to shout at her. But I came to understand or rather I concluded that at that time, she had to know the consequences of what she had done, or the potential consequences at the very least. If that message got to her any later, the intensity and dangers of her 'carelessness' would not have been fully received. The punishment and scolding, needed to be instant, an immediate consequence of her actions, not a later result. Perhaps, in addition a serious conversation would be had later where more instruction and understanding would be given. Hugging and holding her, sealed the deal, he loved his daughter as any father would, and realized how close he had come to losing her. The punishment/scolding much like the holding, was born in love. The two have a special relationship, working hand in hand in the parent soul.
I wonder if this can be compared to how God treats us when we do wrong.
(Image taken from http://www.flickr.com/photos/40151217@N00/87533535/)
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