I was at the beach right after Christmas of 2010 when I witnessed this. She was maybe six years old, running down the white, sandy beach with a kite in her hand. It was cold and windy on this beautiful winter day in the Carolinas. As she ran, the kite began to climb but she was so excited that she let the string out too fast and she seemed frustrated as the kite started to sink. Her tired legs would run no more and she seemed more interested in watching the kite than in getting it to soar. She let out a loud cry as the kite took a nose dive straight into the sand.
This time, her daddy stood beside her as she began to let the string
go. The kite began to climb steadily as she and her daddy ran together
down the beach. The kite was soaring higher and higher and I could hear
her daddy cheering her on, "You've got it! Great job!" Her
excitement was fading as she realized the higher the kite got, the
harder it was for her to hold on to it while the strong wind pulled on
it with all of its might. She looked at her daddy again and said "Help me daddy!"
She could no longer carry this load on her own and he was right there
with her, ready to help her at a moment's notice. He took the kite from
her, pulled it in, rolled it up and put it away.
It wasn't time yet. But her wise daddy allowed her to get a taste of
what was to come. When she was strong enough, she would be able to do
more, but for now her strength was still small. But it could wait -
because she had so much to learn. I smiled wide as I saw her take a
hold of her daddy's strong hand and skip along the shore now, right
beside her hero - content to just be "daddy's girl".