Writing on the Wall – Daily Picsperation Post

Here is my daily picsperation post from Thursday.

Writing on the Wall

“I told you it would work,” she said, grinning wildly as we walked down the path.

I squeezed her hand twice to let her know I agreed with her brilliance but was unwilling to share that verbally. She was already mocking me for my lack of faith, and I knew I’d never hear the end of it if I told her she was right.

When we finally approached the wall leading up to the library, I was shocked to see it covered with graffiti that hadn’t been there the day before.

“See,” she exclaimed, pointing to the wall and smirking at all the running tally of people’s favorite books of the summer. “Now are you going to do something about the lack of funding for the library? I told you people still read books. That other people care about the library just as much as your bookworm daughter,” she mocked.

While I appreciated her effort to bring some attention to our dilapidated library, what my intelligent and sassy daughter didn’t know was that I’d already made a substantial donation when we were here yesterday. If she was championing such a worthy cause, the least I could do was support her. My late wife and I had raised our daughter to be strong, independent, intelligent and to stand up for what she believed in, and I could only do my best to continue those preachings.

After she’d admired her handiwork in getting so many people to tag the wall, I asked her to come inside with me. When I’d written the check yesterday during their fundraiser, I’d been able to fill out a cardstock book cut-out with who the donation was made by. I knew they’d placed it up on the wall with the other donors, except instead of putting my name on it, I’d written a special message.

“Hope you brought your checkbook, Daddy-o,” Abby’s sing-song voice rang out as she skipped past me.

Smiling my response, I followed behind as she ran up the stairs. Watching her now, I reflected on how much I loved her spirit and determination. She reminded me of her mother more and more every day. I only wished she was still alive to see what an amazing teenager Abby had become, sometimes inspite of me. Chuckling at the thought, I pulled the heavy door open, allowing Abby to enter first.

Giving me an odd look, I figured she wondered what her crazy father was laughing about, but she didn’t say anything. I imagined she kept her thoughts to herself to avoid having me embarrass her in any way, because according to Abby, my sole purpose in life was to humiliate her.

Ah, once an overdramatic teenager, always an overdramatic teenager.

After saying hello to the librarians she’d come to know on a first name basis, she turned and finally asked me what I wanted to show her.

It only took a moment for me to find my book, taped up on the wall right above the checkout area like I’d asked. I wanted her to see the message every time she borrowed something from the library.

I watched silently as her eyes wandered over the books until she finally found the one I was pointing towards.

The inscription read:

“The more that you read, the more things you will know.

The more you learn, the more places you’ll go.”

I will always love you and your passions.

Your very proud,

Daddy-o.

“You donated?” she gasped, hugging me fiercely.

“Of course I did. I’d give you the world if I could, Abby. Always remember that.”

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