Page 24 - The Window_ A Foundations' Style Rapier

A Child’s Wings
Amanda Lydon, Class of 2026

Summer sat still with her legs crossed at the dinner table. She knew that it was best for her to
comply and to submit to her parents. She did not want to listen to them, but she knew that it

would be easier if she did. “Summer, I know you're a very audacious young girl but no matter

how bold and daring you are this can not keep happening,” Her mother told her in a strict but
soft tone. Summer felt tears start to prick her eyes, but she did not let them see that. After a

few minutes her father spoke, “Summer you know i'm not angry with you.” His voice was devoid

of anger but instead was full of concern. Summer was very skittish at the moment. She knew

not to be afraid of her father and instead knew how much he loved her. She felt tears in her
eyes and battled to control herself from crying. As willful as Summer was she eventually could

not be stubborn and broke down. The prodigious love her parents had for her was overflowing

and huge. She hugged both of them and heard her Father say, “Honey please stop believing
you can fly.” She looked up at him with a pleading look, “Dad I really can!” From Summer’s

perspective a blanket is the same thing as wings. She thought blankets could flap and help

her stay in the air just like a bird. Her dad’s point of view was a lot different. “Well maybe you

could start on your homework now that this is settled,” her father said. She gave him a
confused look. “How is that relevant to this,” she asked. She then added, “Lets get ice cream!”

He chuckled at his daughter for thinking ice cream is relevant to her trying to fly with a

blanket. “Homework first then ice cream,” he said a little sternly. She huffed and walked away.
Her mother looked perturbed and stood next to him. “Do you think she’ll try this stunt again?,”

She asked. Her father saw her mother’s troubled expression and quickly responded, “Nonsense

she will learn!” She agreed with him in unison knowing that her daughter would learn
eventually.

Untitled Photograph

Juliet Powell, Class of 2025

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