Familiar footsteps padded around downstairs. I lost all notion of time because it had been dark for awhile. When I heard the door opening and closing, it seemed as if the sound came from one of my dreams. Then, the distinguishable thump of a bag falling to the ground and the snake-like motion of the zipper pierced through the night. Thuds crescendoed up the stairs and assured me that my dad was finally home. He stopped in front of my bedroom door silently, and I could see his silhouette in the darkness. He tiptoed over to the bed and whispered, “I have a present for you.” I could sense how we both smiled in an instant.

He gave me a plush object that felt like a bean bag. I sat up straight and examined it.
When I realized it was a stuffed lamb, I looked up with pure happiness and said “Dada! You got me a lamby!”
“What are you gonna name it?” Dada said.
“Little Lamby.” I declared proudly.

Months later, my dad told me that he had to go on a trip somewhere for work. All I could think about was my Daddy leaving again. As the time approached, I kneeled on our white couch in the family room looking out the big window. Snow fell from the dark Connecticut sky, slow and steady like frozen tears. Its sparkling paleness against the pavement burst into a million pellets, and I could feel the thump of each inside my heart. Once a whole and beautiful snowflake, now a confused puddle. As I stared outside, I realized that Mother Nature was whispering, hearing my thoughts. Dada’s familiar footsteps came down the stairs, and I refused to turn around. But I reluctantly faced reality and gave him a big hug.

“Have a good flight, Dada. I’m gonna miss you.”

“I’m gonna miss you, too, Divi,” he warmly replied.

My anger vanished in an instant, and all I could feel was my heavy heart and tears threatening to fall. One tear escaped my eye and I wiped it away because I did not want my sadness to inundate the room. Dad grabbed his rolling bag and walked out the door. I turned from the window because I could not face the reflection of my feelings. I held Little Lamby above my face. When the car pulled out the driveway, I clutched him and sobbed.
That night, I had a nightmare about the witch in Dora the Explorer. I woke up in a cold sweat and frantically looked around the room for any signs of the bruja. When I realized she was not there, I looked out the window. I saw the familiar snow falling with bigger snowflakes than before. As it hit the ground, I saw the beats of my heart in the speed of the flakes, violent and hurried. I saw them falling faster with no intention of calming down. A wave of severe sadness came over me, and all of a sudden I felt tears coming down my face. I wished my dad were here. I turned away from the window and looked at Little Lamby. I instantly felt calmer as he gazed with his big, round eyes and hugged me in comfort in his white and pink fur.

As I grew older, my companion never failed to support me. In fifth grade, there were three girls in my class who constantly teased me. One day, they hid my favorite hat and laughed about my worry; I felt so overwhelmed that I ran out of the classroom. The sound of my feet hitting the floor was an internal metronome in my brain. The constant tears falling from my eyes caused anger to boil inside me. This internal turmoil was all too familiar; it reminded me of my Dad’s trip on that snowy night. A wave of loneliness hit me. More tears fell as intense as ocean waves crashing against a rocky shore. The pain and sadness swallowed me while I wished for my Daddy’s jokes and happiness to carry me far away from the world.

Blinded by sadness and rage, I rushed home to find Little Lamby on my bed. He stared at me with his sincere and warm eyes helping my mood lift, as if someone were slowly pulling a lever that controls my feelings. I sat down on my bed and hugged him. I felt a weight lifting off my shoulders, enveloping my sadness and melting it away. These happy emotions brought back memories of my dad and I; the times when we built snowmen, had tea parties, and sang loudly in the car came swarming back. I smiled and faced Little Lamby, ready to tell him about my day.
It has been four years, and Little Lamby is still very near and dear to my heart. While I no longer speak to him as I did when I was young, he comes with me on all of my vacations to comfort me and protect me from sharks. His home is by my pillows, and I look forward to seeing him every morning. Lamby has helped me through many challenges. From listening to a little girl rambling about nightmares to catching all my tears in moments of solitude, he is the unfailing friend that will always be supportive and non judgmental. Knowing Lamby is always on my bed reassures me that I can be heard. Even when we feel lonely, we must remember to hold on to everything we keep close to our hearts.