When I was a young girl, my family would feed the homeless once a week with my church at a center in a high-crime, high-drug project community. I looked forward to this day every week, not only because of the tasty food I knew I would also partake in, but because I knew there was a good chance I would see my daddy.
I love my daddy, though I saw him very, very few times in my young life. I would eagerly watch the door at every face that entered with my heart pounding to see his sweet face.
My dad, my father’s name is King Daniel, and though he was not in my life much, I couldn’t help but love him, even when my thoughts would tell me, if he loved you, he would be around more. As a child, you don’t understand the intricacies of an adult relationship and their problems. When my dad passed away, to my surprise, I came to understand how intricate and chaotic his life really was.
My father was already a married man with three children. My mother was just one of his mistresses. Me and my brother were the seeds of his unfaithfulness. I imagine it can be difficult to juggle multiple women, much less the children that comes with them. I don’t know much of my father, but he was always kind and gentle to me. So though his presence was sparse in my life, his love was not.
~ Sister Ruth.