Parental Superpower: Ability to Find Joy

He pronounced the word “Joy” with an African accent,
One word spoken clearly through crying attack sent
From my kid to my ear
As I tried to clear out to the cry room,
The vocal tomb of unwanted crying
Receiving looks from those denying
They’d lost their reason to sit there.
So I walked further back to where
I could sway and shhh my child who fell off the kneeler,
Wiping her tears away to reveal her
Still-crying eyes that were calming from being scared.
I tasted salt on my lips and prepared
To go back out to the pew…
In a minute or two.
My daughter was ready but I was held on
To the joy of the moment before it was gone.