The Papa
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Hodaya's papa used to lift her up. She would run towards him from the end of the pastures and he would swing her above his head. She would laugh and he would hold her close against his chest.
Just like her mama, he comforted her which was strange for a patriarch. Unlike her mama, he did not need to speak for her to calm down. She loved both her parents as differently as the manners in which they treated her. However, she loved them equally as they loved their children equally.
She loved her mother's words and she loved her papa's presence.
She used to think her papa was the tallest thing in the world. She would look up at him and see a giant. When she hugged him, she hugged his knees unless he picked her up. However, he wasn't as tall anymore. Or at least he did not seem so. When she peered at his greying hair and crinkled skin, she could see it well for she fitted his height.
Sometimes she wished she had stopped growing when she still considered him a young and beautiful giant.
YOU ARE READING
Ancient Things We Hold
Historical FictionA Tree. A Nobleman. A Pauper. A Romance. A Divide. A Thousand Lifetimes Ago. A young high born and a poor villager meet as children and grow up playing together whenever time permits them. It is not until they are older, just as affection form...
