She loved him. The sad part was, she had to let him go. It was difficult for me because I felt it was my fault that she lost him. I crossed the line without even realizing it. Now I can only pray that once again, God intervenes. After all, He had His hand in it from the beginning.

My daughter Destiny sat in front of the computer like she did every afternoon, glued to the screen and the instant messages she received. She tapped noisily on the keyboard, as if the keys would run away if she did not snap them back into place. A shrill screech, followed by an attempt to jump out of the chair and into the kitchen in one motion, attracted my attention. As she clumsily tripped over the casters of the computer chair, I cringed at the prospect of her hitting the floor.

“You know, it simply amazes me that you can perform ten sets of wings, double pullbacks, and a time step in slippery tap shoes but you can’t get from the den to the kitchen without taking your own life in your hands!” I said as she tripped, arms and legs flailing, all the way

to the kitchen sink.

“It’s a gift,” she quipped. “Please can I go?” she asked as she finally composed herself.

“What are you talking about, Destiny? Would you please be careful? For goodness sake, you’re going to hurt yourself,” I said.

“The Jonas Brothers are opening up for Jesse McCartney at the Music Fair. Kenzie got eighth row seats. Please!” she begged.

“Okay, how much are the tickets?” I asked.

She slumped. Dropping her posture, she revealed her long, thin frame, sharp shoulder bones, and lanky stature. “Well…” and as if saying the words at a hundred miles an hour would lighten the blow, she spit out, “One hundred sixty dollars each.” My maternal intuition imagined it would cost us more.