Building more than Bridges

I approached him, head hung low at 7:00pm the night before it was due. Feelings of guilt were overruled by thoughts of walking into class embarrassed and empty handed. “Dad, I need your help...” 

The seventh-grade bridge-building project was assigned weeks before this Sunday night. In typical fashion, I waited until the night before to figure out how I was going to source materials, design, and build a bridge that would hold more cans of food than my classmates' fabrications. This task, with the little time left in the evening, seemed impossible.

I don't know if it was the look of guilt on my face, or the tone of defeat in my voice, or some childhood dream coming back to life, but his reaction was unexpected to say the least. After explaining the problem, decades of engineering experience came to life as he began with: “Ok, here’s the plan…”

At 12:30 am, my eyes were heavy, but my heart was full of hope. The platforms, meticulously crafted of popsicle sticks and glue, hung from the sturdy bases with the heaviest fishing line money could buy. It was all coming together to be the most structurally sound suspension bridge this school would ever see. But there was still so much more work that needed to be done… He leaned over and said, “Go to bed son, I’ll finish.” 

Heroes don’t wear capes. Heroes stay up many hours into the night working on a seventh-grade bridge project long after their boy has drifted off to sleep. Yes, he could have chosen to say his standard, “Poor planning on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part.” But he chose something different. He chose to lean in with love. This story is often one I tell my children when they ask, “What was your dad like?”. 

And if you’re still wondering, yes, that bridge received first place. It held more cans of food than not just any of the other bridges; it held more than the teacher had even brought to the test. Go dad.