i remember growing up my dad was my hero. there wasn't anywhere i would have rather been than sitting on his lap watching a movie. we are just alike. we are hot-headed and passionate. we are impatient and caring. we are emotional and loving. we are melancholy and nonchalantly humorous. i also knew that no matter what came my way, my dad would be there to protect me and teach me, scorn me and love me, motivate me and encourage me. i thought everyone's dad was that way.
it wasn't until i got older when i realized that all dad's weren't that way. some were unintentional. some were demeaning. some were abusive. and some were just down right bad. and it wasn't until we moved to the dominican that i realized that a lot of dad's were absent.
i am not saying that it is culturally acceptable for a man to abandon his family, because that is not true. i have met and have grown to adore many of the dad's that i come in contact with on a daily basis down here. but...there is an underlying cycle in this culture, of men not taking responsibility for their children...to raise them well and love them better.
as vicious as the cycle can be, i always find hope somewhere amidst my most hopeless of days. that was this picture. the little boys' name is Junior. the man holding him was named Wes. Junior held onto him the entire time Wes was in his community. and just like Jesus' grace washes over our spirits and brings us peace, i saw this little boy rest his head on Wes' shoulder as the peace of being loved and feeling secure washed over him.
i was reminded once again that we can't be something to everybody, be we can be something to somebody.
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