Hours before I left to study abroad in Paris last spring, my dad handed me a letter that I read quietly in the confines of my childhood bedroom. The letter said that, as a father, his job was to give me roots, a place and family I could always return to where I would be loved no matter what. And also to give me wings, tools to help me fly and achieve my own independence and dreams. Until very recently, I thought my dad had made up this saying, when it reality it’s a common saying about parenting, but it’s beauty is not diminished by its banality. And I relied so heavily on the message of my dad’s letter, as both my roots and wings were both put to the test as I traveled across Europe last year.
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Anna MillerCollege student, avid reader, cat AND dog person (I don't discriminate), runner, musical enthusiasist. ArchivesCategories |