With Wings I Soar Read Free Page B

she was little. It was soft and big and she wrapped herself tightly in it before walking down the hallway to her bedroom. She dressed in a skirt and t-shirt and plopped onto her bed to call Katie. Katie answered the phone on the first ring.
    “I-I need you,” Tabitha sputtered, suddenly unsure of what to say.
    Without hesitation or questions, Katie told her “I'll be right there.”
    And she was. Katie arrived quickly and entered the house without knocking. She didn't need to knock: she was Tabitha's house more than she was at her own.
    “Come on,” she hauled Tabitha to the kitchen and plopped a brown paper bag on the table.
    “Mom sent cookies,” Katie explained with a smile and pulled out a plate of warm chocolate chip cookies: Tabitha's favorite.
    The girls each ate their cookies in silence. The gooey deliciousness melted on Tabitha's tongue and left her feeling warm and loved long after she took her last bite. Tabitha was working up the courage to speak while Katie waited patiently for her friend to feel comfortable enough to discuss her problem.
    Katie had known Tabitha long enough to know that she needed time to process her feelings about something before she was ready to share. There was nothing wrong with it, but Tabitha's mom, Mrs. Peterson, sometimes got frustrated with Tabitha's inability to instantly communicate her feelings and needs quickly. Katie, however, was a fortress of gentleness. She was used to waiting for things: her dad's deployments had taught her patience well. She could wait for anything, almost indefinitely, without growing weary or annoyed.
    Finally, Tabitha explained the situation. It wasn't beautiful or dramatic or special. She just spoke. The words tumbled from her lips willfully and deliberately, and Katie waited in silence until Tabitha was done speaking.
    “I just feel empty. I feel like there is a huge hole in my heart where my Daddy needs to be. I feel so empty. And I feel alone.”
    Tabitha laid her head on the kitchen table and began to cry again. Katie rushed to her side. Wrapping her arms tenderly around her friend, Katie held Tabitha.
    “You are not alone,” she whispered softly. “You are never alone. You will always have me.”
    The girls held each other for what felt like hours. Katie wept for Tabitha's loss and for her pain, and then the tears stopped. Composing themselves quietly, Katie said she should get home for dinner.
    “Mom will wonder what happened to me,” she laughed softly.
    “It's okay, my mom should be back from work soon.”
    When Katie was gone, Tabitha wandered around the house. Everything looked normal. Everything looked the same as it always had. The brown sofa in the living room with its torn cushion and bright red throw pillows stood boldly in the center of the room, begging to be sat on. The family photos lining the fireplace mantle glistened with dozens of smiles just waiting to be looked at and remembered. And the ancient black coffee table that housed three books and dozens of magazines sat quietly in one corner, rarely used and often forgotten.
    Tabitha said nothing as she stared at the room, memories floating past her in waves. She had spent her Christmas mornings in this room, opening presents and laughing with excitement as the wrapping paper fell away from each gift. Her birthday celebrations, complete with wonderful company and delicious cupcakes, had been hosted in this room. And quiet autumn evenings like this one had been spent here as a family. After dinner and chores, the board games would come out and the small family would play for hours and hours.
    Tabitha glanced at the bookshelf in the corner. The board games, which had once offered so much excitement and relief from the stresses of everyday life, were now covered in dust and shame. Tabitha walked to the games and ran a finger over Monopoly, wiping away a thin line of dust from the cover. This had been her favorite game once. Without hesitation, Tabitha picked up the box and