God is an old man with trembling hands and skin the texture of a dried autumn leaf, crunching under your feet. Dark circles plague his eyes like storm clouds over a field of sunflowers, but somehow they still glow.
His chair groans as he shifts his weight to rest his elbow on his cluttered desk and bury his face into his hands. He stifled a sob as the door behind him creeks open an inch. He quickly composes himself and turns to see a pair of quiet eyes peering in at him curiously. He struggles to keep his voice even as he offers a brave smile and waves her in, “Come in Dear.”
Despite his efforts, she ships in through the door and closes it softly behind her, crossing the room and placing a tiny hand on his knee, “Daddy whats the matter?” She reaches to trace a line on his brow as if to illustrate her point.
As always he’s charmed by her and takes her tiny hand in his, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb on the back of it.
“Never mind that, tell me about your day.”
Entirely distracted, she sets off on a tale like she’d traveled the world.
Chuckling at her energy, he reached down to lift her to his knee and balanced her there with arms locked like steal around her, making very certain she wouldn’t fall.
She told him about breakfast (blueberry pancakes) and how she’d accidentally spilled the syrup and had to take a bath at eight in the morning! She’d quickly after muddied her dress outside with her little posse, looking for pretty leaves, it was a bit too chilly to go around barefoot, but the state of her feet gave evidence that she’d done just that. Her eyes got very wide and she used her hands when she explained that she’d made quite a discovery today.
A bumblebee had flown by and she’d only thought it was a sort of gentle looking creature when suddenly all of her friends began swatting and flailing about like he was murdering them! She laughed and said, “What on earth are you all doing?” And they told her that bees sting and you should kill them before they hurt you, they continued flailing, to demonstrate. She was appalled and scolded them with her most condescending tone, “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard!” she said, “why would he sting you? Oh well I suppose if you go swatting at him like that, then yes he might sting, but that’s your own fault. Some flowers are poisonous you know, does that mean we should kill all the flowers just because they might hurt you?” The look on her face told them all that the answer was clearly ‘no’.
And with that, she bent down and rustled around in the grass by her feet for a moment, when she straightened back up, a bumblebee was perched on the tip of her tiniest finger. Everyone gasped. One of the boys exclaimed with awe, “Why, you’re a bee charmer! Why didn’t you tell us? That’s why you’re not afraid of bees.”
The little girl looked up at her father with beaming eyes and cried, “Isn’t that exciting Daddy I'm a bee charmer!”
He was smiling the brightest smile that would make even the sun go off to pout in envy, and leaned to kiss her forehead, “That’s wonderful Sweatheart.”
And as his face was so close to hers, he could smell the strawberry shampoo in her hair and she tilted her baby face up to his chin and gave him a sticky maple syrup kiss, and somewhere there was a hint of mothers perfume, because she always liked to sneak into her room and dress up like her and pretend she was a grown-up too, and he breathed it all in, and it was such a lovely perfect moment.
God is an old man who watches his baby walk out of the room and just as her hand touches the handle she turns to whisper, softer then a breeze or a sigh or a smile, “I love you Daddy.”
His chin smells like maple syrup and he smiles as he goes back to work.