A Really Big Day
It was a really big day; all was going smoothly.
Until the mommy brought her six year old daughter to me.
The child was inconsolable, crying hysterically, hiccup-crying.
"We saw my brother's car beside the interstate on the way in," the woman said.
I said to my daughter, "That's your uncle Gary's car!"
There were onlookers, but no police yet.
"We got out to see," she said. "Gary was lying in the grass, dead."
The child's crying got louder.
"You'll have to calm her down," she told me. "I've got lots to do."
I suggested maybe they should spend the day together.
Received an exasperated sigh.
"You're the counselor," she said. "That's your job!"
The child held on tightly, wailing.
The principal came to help.
She made the same suggestion I had made.
"This is your job!" she told us as she pried herself away
from the keening child.
It was a really big day.
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