He had been away since April of that year. She was only nine years old, and she didn’t understand. They told her he was going to help people. That he would be away a long time, but that he would be coming back. Kat knew her dad was in the Army, but she wasn’t sure what the word “deployed” meant.

Kat only remembered her mom crying and holding her as she watched her dad walk down the terminal towards the airplane that whisked him away from her. She felt an aching, a hurt, a feeling she didn’t know. Her heart was breaking.

She sat at home after school every day from then on and cried. No, she sobbed. Wept, even. There are not many words that can describe where in a little girl’s heart those tears come from. No description for what feelings are soaked in a child’s tears who only wants to be held by her daddy.

One night, Kat woke up in the middle of the night, frightened. Nightmares frequented her, and she’d get up and walk to where he usually slept and just stare. It was empty. Then she’d remember how he’d write to her and tell her to be a good girl, to be strong. He said she needed to be strong for mommy. Kat picked up the bear he gave her just before he left, and she held on to him, scared he might leave her too. She sat awake and told herself not to cry. Daddy said to be strong, so that’s what she wanted to do.

Someone finally explained it to her. It was her mother, and it was on a day that Kat will never forget. Because that day she gained clarity, even at nine years old. Her mom showed her pictures of Kat’s dad playing with Iraqi children and giving them toys and candy and love. Her mother said that these kids didn’t have daddies. Kat just sat there and thought about how it would feel to have that aching, hurting feeling always in her heart. It was then that she knew that her daddy was a good man. That he was doing something good for someone who wasn’t as fortunate as she was, and she knew she would get him back.

Kat would still cry, because even though she understood, she still missed him. She wanted him to hug her and tell her he loved her. She wanted just to touch him. So she would write him letters, and he would write back, telling her to be a good, strong girl.


And one day the aching stopped. The hurt went away. This feeling can’t be described with words either. Because that day, he came home to his family. He hugged them, and told them he loved them. They cried together, but not for the pain in their hearts but rather the pure joy, relief, and gratitude to God for sending him home safely.

Little girls need their daddies to let them know that they’re loved, to teach them to be strong, and to show them how to be courageous. Today, she’s sixteen, and he’s right there with her, showing her how to be adventurous and to laugh at life. She still reads his old letters, and she still cries because she knows he meant every word he wrote to her, and he knew, too, that little girls need their daddies, and his heart had broken along with hers knowing he couldn’t be right beside his little girl.