Monday, July 21, 2008

Good morning!

I am searching for heartfelt and inspirational stories about family relationships, stories that share wisdom and teach important moral and life lessons, stories from which children and parents might derive hope, guidance and a smile after reading them.

I am conducting recorded telephone interviews to gather the information necessary to portray your story. Interviews last 30-45 minutes; just send me an email (See “Links” below for my address) requesting an interview appointment.

For those who prefer to write their story rather than participate in an interview, you must submit it via my website. Please visit www.gregoryelang.com and click the red corner on the home page just beneath the “Projects” tab.

Stories are not published as submitted or told but rather are used as anecdotes told by me, the narrator, to help illustrate a message about teaching or cherished moments between mothers and daughters.

If this is your first visit to my blog, please read the Frequently Asked Questions posted on March 20, 2008.

Stories about the fun moms and daughters have together, how moms teach daughters what it means to be a woman (putting on makeup, first period, first bra, first boyfriend), help with the challenges of a wedding and marriage, daughters helping mom in a technological world, etc., are all welcome.

NOTE: The deadline to offer a mother-daughter story has been reset to the original deadline of August 1st.

Now on to today’s post~

Today I want to share this little piece I wrote for GreatDad.com:

A daughter needs a father to protect her from thunder and lightening.

When I wrote that statement for my first book, “Why a Daughter Needs a Dad,” I quite literally meant it. My daughter was only eight years old at the time and still came to my side or crawled into my bed whenever a severe storm loomed over our home. It was my job back then to provide comfort and give reassurance that I would always take care of her.

Over the years my daughter’s fear of thunder and lightening has faded, but not her need for my comfort and reassurance. She still comes to me when tears fill her eyes or when doubt enters her mind. I still embrace my role as her protector.

But while many of her fears have faded during the last ten years, my worst - the fear some harm may come to my child - has not. I once was afraid she might burn herself while learning to cook and later, have an accident while behind the wheel of her own car. Now I fear what unknown harm may come to her after she leaves home to attend college.

You see, she will be miles away then, unable to call out for me or rush to my side. I will not be near enough to see that look on her face that tells me she needs me even though she has not yet said a word.

In the last few weeks we have together before she leaves, I do the only thing I can think of to calm my fears – talk with her every day, inquiring if she remembers how to handle this or that situation, what to do if, and more.

She always has the right answers, thank God, and she doesn’t protest my relentless hypothetical scenarios. She understands, and appreciates, that I’m only doing what a dad does. Protect his own. Protect her.

I hope you’ll visit GretDad.com once in a while; they’re good people.

Do you have a heartwarming mother-daughter story to tell? A glimpse into an important teaching moment between you and mom or daughter? A confirmation of love? Just a wonderful moment you’ll never forget? If yes, please let me know!

Well, I guess that’s enough for today. Thanks so much for visiting my blog. Now go out and hug somebody!

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