The Daughter

Give me your hand, you used to say, because I was afraid to wade through the lily pads of the lake on my own. So, my hand in yours, we defeated those red and writhing stems, pushed aside those lavender waterlilies that floated atop them, shuffled through the snails and the grime that lived at the bottom, fish nipping at our toes, dragonflies perching on our shoulders, until we made it to the center of the lake.
Source: JAMA - Category: General Medicine Source Type: research