“Thank Heaven for Little Girls” – Daddy’s girl.

Maurhamburg1ice Chevalier sang a song called “Thank Heaven for Little Girls”. It released the year I was born and adopted by my father as our song. I was definitely a daddy’s girl. I felt safe and loved in his arms.

Scarred for lifeAt two years old my dad discovered a lump above my tummy button, and a trip to the doctors consequently resulted in a diagnoses of an umbilical hernia. However, he decided it did not need to be operated on straight away. My dad, frightened for me, knew that the operation would leave a scar. His ‘little girl’ would be scarred for life. The lump grew and became very unsightly. My father could barely look at it. At last, at the age of four, I had my operation.

Our Song : The evening before I went into hospital, my father held me in his arms and put on the radio. ‘Our song’ was being played. Dad danced, holding me close as he would a partner and sang along:

Each time I see a little girl
Of five or six or seven
I can’t resist a joyous urgemargaret-as-a-baby
To smile and say
Thank heaven for little girls
For little girls get
Bigger every day
Thank heaven for little girls
They grow up in
The most delightful way.
Those little eyes
So helpless and appealing
When they were flashing
Send you crashing
Through the ceiling
Thank heaven for little girls
Thank heaven for them all
No matter where,
No matter who
Without them
What would little boys do
Thank heaven
Thank heaven
Thank heaven for little girls.

An intimate moment : Finally, as the song ended, I wiped his tears away then brushed my hand through his Brylcreem hair; the stickiness made me express my distaste for this product. Seeing dad’s distress, I hugged him hard and kissed him many times. “Don’t worry. I will be alright, Daddy.” To my delight, the dance continued around the kitchen table long after the song finished on the radio.

 

Margaret Kazmierczak shares a memory of long ago. Thank Heaven for Little Girls the song, and about being her Daddy's girl at HeartWingsBlog.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cherished memory : Consequently, this memory has always been my most vivid. Hence, this intimate moment with my dad has had to last me a lifetime. Two years later, he left my life via my parent’s divorce. As a result, God had to step into the breach. He became my daddy, and I, His ‘Daddy’s girl’. He would now sing to me “Thank Heaven for Little Girls.”  And in time, He put a new song on my heart:

father-and-daughter

Deuteronomy 31:6 (NKJV)  “Be strong and of good courage, do not fear nor be afraid of them; for the Lord your God, He is the One who goes with you. He will not leave you nor forsake you.”

 

 

 

Do you have a vivid memory that has not dimmed over time or one that God has replaced to heal the previous one?

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Margaret Kazmierczak

Margaret Kazmierczak nee Doust was born in 1958 in Redhill, Surrey, England. Had her father gotten his way, she would have been called Margaret Angela Doust with initials M.A.D. To avoid endless teasing, her parents dropped the middle name. She loved writing in her head, but found putting pen to paper difficult due to her dyslexia and inability to read. Her belief that she could write came when she submitted a sermon to a retreat master as a novice in a Contemplative Order. His advice to her: if you decide that this life is not for you, you must become a writer. After three years, she did leave, then life became busy and got complicated when she married her husband Peter and had three children. Finally after thirty years, the Retreat Master’s words became true and a writer was born.

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