Her chubby little hand squeezed the treasure she held. 

She looked up at her daddy with tears spilling on her pink cheeks.

He knew she loved him, right?

So why would he ask for her favorite thing?

The treasure fit her hand so well.  Felt so comfortable.  Was part of who she was.

She couldn’t remember her life before it.  She couldn’t imagine her life without it.

And still he asked.

He didn’t pry it from her clinched fingers.

He just asked.

“Do you love me?”

“Of course daddy, with all my heart!”

“Enough to give me your treasure?”

This would make her squirm and look away.

He had given her the treasure.

Why should she give it back?

And she would loosen her grip a little, but not place it in his open hand.

And again he would ask.

“Do you love me?”

“Of course, daddy!  You know I love you!”

“More than your treasure?”

She wanted to say yes, from the bottom of her heart.

But her actions spoke more loudly in her silence and her inability to place it in his palm.

How empty would her hand feel if she let go of it completely?

The thought frightened her.  She released her fingers and watched as the treasure rested in her open hand.

And again he asked.

“Do you love me?”

“Daddy, why do you keep asking?  You know I love you.”

“Enough to trust me with your treasure? To know that I will take better care of it than you ever could?”

This pierced her heart. 

She knew her daddy’s immense love.

She trusted him completely.

She knew his character and that he was true to his word.

So why was this so hard?

Her green eyes looked longingly, pleading into his eyes.

He knew her fear.  He recognized the sacrifice of such giving.

Through burning tears, she saw the love in his eyes.

Love that would not leave her empty handed.

Love that would not abandon.

Love that knew her heart and all it contained.

And she saw his open, waiting hand.

With it’s calluses and scars.

Rugged and beautiful and worthy of her trust.

And she brought her hand to his.

And she placed her treasure in that hand.

Unafraid of the emptiness of her own.

He held the treasure tightly, lovingly and drew her tear stained face up to his own.

She looked up to see his eyes, full of tears.  Tears of love, recognizing what she had just done.

She reached up with her now empty hand and wiped his tears.

They smiled the deepest, most knowing smile at each other.

In one hand he held the treasure.  In the other, he held her trembling hand.  And she felt the warmth of peace and just knowing a love like no other.  She had the love of her daddy in the palm of her very own hand.  And it felt so very good.