When Mr. Hardesty came back and saw our car， he went into the house and in a while I could hear voices. Then silence， then voices again. At last my father came outside， and I followed him to the car. All the lonely way into town， he said nothing to me. And I could not risk saying anything to him. The world I thought I knew lay sundered in my heart. We didn’t go home. We went to his office instead. He began going through his books， looking for something he might have done. I wanted to stop him， but I didn’t know how. I couldn’t imagine how the night would end. From time to time， all unwilling， I would begin to cry again. Finally， I heard someone at the door and went out through the reception room， grateful to whomever it might be. News of the beginnings and endings of life traveled far and fast in a community like ours. My mother had come for us.
She knelt down， hugged me， rubbed the back of my head， and I clung to her， as I had not done since I was a baby. “Oh， Mama， why couldn’t he， why couldn’t he？” I wept and lay my head against her shoulder. She rubbed my back until I was quiet. Then she said， “Your father is bigger than you are， but he’s smaller than life. We love him for what he can do， we don’t love him less for what he can’t. Love accepts what it finds， no matter what.”
Even though I’m not certain I understood what she meant， I know I felt the importance of what she said. Then she went in to get my father. That winter seemed to have gone on forever when I lived through it long ago， but the memory played it out in seconds.
I sat turning over the pieces of Luke’s broken toy. I said to him， “I can’t fix it.”
“Sure you can.”
“No， I can’t. I’m sorry.”
He looked at me， and the expression of awesome confidence faded. His lower lip trembled， and he fought his tears even as they came.
I pulled him on my lap， and comforted him as best I could in his sorrow over his broken toy and his fallen idol. Gradually his crying subsided. I was certain he sensed my melancholy at seeing myself only an ordinary mortal in his eyes， because he stayed nestled against me for quite a time， his arm about my neck.