Love

He felt the rage pent in his youngest child yesterday. The boy was distraught over a game, but really over his greater anxiety over the prospect of being ripped away, his conflict which can take no other form but the question of who to love? This rage had nothing to do with a game but to all that invested it. His being and his world were at stake, and the game was not going his way, that he had no control, chance is an illusion. He seized on the fact another child was, in fact, cheating - rigging the odds against. The father had to hold him as he screamed again and again and his body shook. The boy didn't fight or struggle to be free. He sunk into the strong hug as if his tears and screams would meet that warm chest and be soothed. And his father whispered to let it out, I will keep you safe. The screams broke to sobs and minutes later resolved in laughter, because, for a six-year-old, you have that swiftness.