More Than Noble

Another number is called
Another knock on the door
Another sigh…it’s been a tiring day
Yet the enthusiasm to help never fades
And a genuine smile is once again plastered on his face
A warm “How are you today?” breaks the silence
Another man’s pain has become his concern
His undivided attention brings comfort and relief

Another day the same routine
Yet somehow seemingly different
A devastated soul seeks help
With much hope stored within her
“Can it be salvaged,” she asks in horror yet praying for a ‘yes’
He smiles and nods, a sign of definite assurance
“We’ll work through this together.”

Another day of bunking class
Sitting on his fathers rooftop, flying kites
Studying was never part of his vocabulary
Books were a mere myth, a fiction of his imagination
Living the carefree life of a young lad never felt better

He kisses her forehead and walks out the front door
Her voice echoing in his head
“Why are you the only father that works on a Sunday?”
The disappointment and shattered hope of a six year old
He stops in his tracks, shakes his head
Wearing the greatest smile she’d ever seen, he walks back the front door
Briefcase aside, he cradles her in his arms
“No more, not today, not ever. I promise.” He whispers

He kept that promise till today
My father never went back to work on a Sunday

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