She was a young thing, sitting on the curb all by herself. The little one couldn’t have been more than 7 or 8-years old.
Brown, unkept strings of hair hung long, her head poised low. I could scarcely make out the girl’s eyes, but they appeared to be watching something below.
She never looked up – not at me or anyone else.
She simply sat alone, grey hues of the city’s concrete scene surrounding her.
A small flow of water traveled, hugging the space between her heels and the curbside. It rushed toward the destination ahead – a dark, bottomless curbside drain.
But our girl continued to sit, downcast and alone. And oddly, although the flow skated by, her tennis shoes remained dry.
I later came to realize she was grieving – a profound sadness surrounding her due to the death of her father.
Let’s face it: death stinks. Thank God for heaven. We all need it because the clutch of death here on earth is far too heavy.
This month marks the one year “anniversary” of my father’s last breath on earth. He now sits in heaven with God Almighty. My heart overflows with joy at the assurance, although I miss him much.
You’ll find the rest of this post over at Flourishing Today. We’re focusing on “Overcoming”. Click here to join me.