For One More Day

I thought you would all enjoy a story I wrote in 6th grade, after my 12th birthday. It is very dear to me and I hope you enjoy it.



FOR ONE MORE DAY
By: Daniela Joel


If life granted you one more day, what would you do? I know what I would do. I would spend the day with my dad, an astounding, stimulating person. Alas, he died two years ago. If you have ever lost a loved one, you would know that your heart is constantly filled with curiosity. But that curiosity leads to a person you never knew. That person will unleash a strong little flame inside of you that is going to grow and make wonderful, new things that will help exceed who you are. With all the nurturing that flame is going to experience it will grow, and grow, and grow. In time, instead of that heart full of curiosity and anger, it becomes a heart full of acceptance and understanding.
Have you ever wanted to ask a question you knew could never be answered? Well I have too. That question was why do people that love you so much, leave you so soon with out a goodbye. I asked God so many times. He never answered me until one day, one remarkable day. He told me he needed someone special. As the words “someone special” echoed in my head, I thought about those oh so fragile words. Every girl says her dad is special. Mine really was. People always ask me why I think this, I just smiled and finally said the words I’ve been waiting to say, I don’t think, I know. My Guardian Angel told me so.
My dad had curly, dark brown hair and shadowy brown eyes that sparkled every time he smiled. He had wide broad shoulders and long arms that could once lift me up and rap around me like a warm, soft blanket, with hands that connect the soft finger tips that could once hold me like a cup when I was just born. It’s hard to believe that the baby that had blonde hair and sky blue eyes is now my dad with the big brown eyes and curly black hair.

Over all, some of the best times of my life were spent with my dad. Like the time I signed my first “autograph” when I was about seven years old. Or the time when he would tickle me, when I was mad at him, until I would forgive him. Some kids don’t realize that the soft, tender touch of your dad could mean the whole world to you if it was gone in just a swift motion of the blink of your eye. This man in that picture was a goofy, sensitive, tender, and loving kind of person. He never gave up. He was my dad. What he most treasured is what he wanted, and what he wanted is what he got. I was his only daughter. He wanted me. He got me.
For one more day…he could have me. He could rap his long arms around me once again. He could look at me one more time with those big brown eyes and say I’ll never leave you again. For one more day…this is what I got. When I hear the whisper of his love and feel the wind blowing on my face, I could hear him, and somewhat distinguish him reaching with those long, soft arms and big brown eyes. He said with a radiant smile, “I will never leave you.”




Love. Daniela