his small voice rang out

A teenager called the library today looking for her father.  The teenager had been dropped off at the wrong coffee shop where she was scheduled to meet her study partners.  She described her father – heavy, glasses, tall – an accurate description of many of the patrons there today, and after putting her on hold, I spent several minutes asking strangers if they had a teenager they dropped off at a coffee shop before coming to the library.  Most patrons were good-natured about my question and a couple even looked amused.  I finally located the correct patron, who was digging through mysteries with hands the size of tennis racquets.  He was at least a foot taller than me, maybe even two, and quite shy.  He merely nodded affirmatively when I questioned him about his daughter.  As we shuffled to the front desk he neither spoke or walked with me.  Whenever I slowed so that he could walk beside me he would slow even further. 

When I handed him the phone his small voice rang out:

“Rachelle?”  Long pause.  “Mmmhmm.  It’s ok.”  Pause.  “It’s ok.  I’ll be there in a few minutes.”  Pause.  “Alright, love you too sweetie.” 

The conversation, while short, clearly proved that the teenager had messed the address up.  Rather than being upset with her, the father was not only calm but also unaffected and sweet.  I couldn’t help myself.  As he handed me the phone I blurted, “Wow.  You are such a wonderful dad!”  The gentle giant beamed and grew another foot.