* * * * *
Her mood changed. "I've been so lonesome, Bill. When I do not belong to
someone I am so unhappy. But I won't be unhappy anymore." For the first
time I felt sorry for her.
"Bill?" Her voice was timid. "Do you believe I will be punished for
leaving the Masters? I did not mean to."
"Who would punish you now?" I asked.
"The Masters' God. They always told me he would punish me if I were
bad. And he is such a terrible God." Her expression became bright with
hope. "Is your God terrible, Bill?"
I tried to reassure her, to pacify this naive creature with her own
private terrors, but she must have read in my mind how our Christian
God could also be terrible in his wrath and justice, for she gave a
small cry and pulled herself close to me.
Several minutes went by while she trembled in my arms and wept
disconsolately. Finally she quieted and in a young girl's voice asked,
"May I use your hanky, daddy?"
In surprise I held her out from me and saw that now she was my
daughter, Joanie, with her newly bobbed hair, and her sweet face still
wet with tears.
Of course. While I held her I had been thinking of her as a child. As
my child, Joanie.