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Take your Father's hand

While I was standing on a busy corner waiting for the signal lights to change, my attention was drawn to a father and his very young son. When the lights turned green, the traffic policeman blew his shrill whistle and motioned us across. The little fellow, with a confident smile, reached up and put his hand into his father's, and both started to cross the surging intersection. I watched intrigued as the child skipped across the street. Never for an instant did his happy, contented expression change. He obviously was completely undisturbed by the din of automobile horns, the officer's whistle, and the hurrying crowd.

More than once that day my thoughts returned to that simple example of confidence. The little lad must have felt that as long as he held firmly to his father's protecting and guiding hand, no harm could befall him.

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Poem
Acoustics
November 8, 1982
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