Achieving Your Goals, the Art of Teaching Each Other to Walk

Years ago, the baby crawled to the end-table, reached up, and hoisted herself onto chubby, wobbly legs.  She let go and then fell.  She reached up and grabbed the edge of the end-table again and lifted herself up.  She let go.  She fell.   Again and again she repeated this action until finally, over the course of many days, was able to balance herself on her own feet.  She chortled a crystalline laugh.  Her father sat in the chair across the room.  He held out his arms.  A coffee table and a foot stool stood in the path.  She looked down at her feet, thought at them to lift.  Finally one of her feet got the message and lifted, taking an awkward little step. And then she fell.  After a few exasperating moments flat on her face, she looked up at her father.  “You can do it,” he said, “one step at a time.” She rose again and steadied herself.  She raised her arms to ear level, and then teetered into a head-long step. And then fell again.  Over and over she fell and over and over got up.  Once he held out his hand and she grabbed ahold of one of his fingers and let herself be led across the room.  She was delighted.  She looked down at her moving feet.  She couldn’t believe what they were doing. Then he let go and she kept walking.  She looked up at him, amazed.  He held out his arms.  She tumbled into them laughing the laughter of heaven.  The image swirled through him.  That was thirty years ago. The sound of her laughter rang in his ears and formed the words: “You can do it daddy.”  He blinked back to the present moment where she held out her arms.  He slowly and tentatively rose from his wheel-chair, doctors and nurses looking on, and took the first steps he had taken since the car accident three years before.  He wobbled, teetered, and he grabbed her arms to steady himself.  “How am I going to do this?” he asked.  “One step at a time,” she said, tears forming in her eyes.  Then she let him go.  He took a little step, and then another.  He inched closer to her, until finally, he tumbled into her arms, laughing the laughter of heaven. 

Copyright Joseph Anthony of the Wonder Child Blog

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *