*************** Lily’s View ***************

Early in the morning, the sound of birds and chipmunks twittering and chirping, fighting over food, coming from the outside of the tent, woke her up. She got up, looked around the tent with her bright blue eyes, and saw her father still asleep. She thought, “Finally! I can start the fire so that Dad will see I can do stuff for myself!” Lily, a girl of 14, was on an annual camping trip with her father. She had gone on this trip since she was 5, so she was an experienced camper, but this year her father was treating her like a helpless child.

Lily maneuvered around the tent stealthily, putting on her jeans and sweatshirt, which still smelled like campfire, and pulled on her hiking boots. She carefully pulled her flint and steel out of her backpack, reminding herself that she would need to put it back when she packed for their hike. She quietly climbed out of the tent, and felt the relief of fresh, but damp, air as she inhaled.

Lily looked around their campsite in the grassy plain, which was surrounded by a dense forest. Lily chose to head to the edge of the clearing near the forest to look for kindling. Lily spent some time gathering dry, brown twigs at the edge of the forest, having learned years ago that the unbreakable, long green sticks littering the ground only brought smoke. Lily returned to their campsite with the gathered sticks, and was now carefully arranging them in the fire pit, when her father climbed out of the tent.

“Here, let me do that for you,” he said as he approached.

“But Dad,” she complained, “I’ve seen you do it every year we come here. I can handle it this time.”

Her father just smiled, patted her on the head, and started the fire. In a huff, Lily, who was too old to be patted on the head, treaded back to her tent to pack all the essentials for the hike. When she went to do it, she saw her backpack, already packed. “Again, another thing he thinks I can’t do for myself,” she muttered, exasperated, as she shook her head. Her dark brown hair, which her mother always reminded her came from her father, flew around her face, as out of control as her father seemed to be.

Lily exited the tent, annoyed. “If only there was a door to slam; zippers are so hard to close angrily.”, she thought. Stomping on the dirt as she approached, she said to her father sarcastically, “Well, since my bag has packed itself, I guess I’ll start on breakfast.”

“No sweetie, you need your energy for the long hike ahead of us. I’ll just finish with this fire and then I’ll start on my famous Daddy-Daughter Delicacy. I know it’s your favorite and it is tradition.”, her father replied, obviously missing her sarcasm. Lily smiled outwardly, but her eyes and heart were sad, because she wasn’t allowed to do anything by herself.

Several more times, between breakfast and packing up camp, Lily felt that her father thought she was incapable of doing things on her own. She found herself feeling frustrated and dismayed, and began to wonder if this was going to be her last camping trip.

The sun had just made its way above the mountain when they started on the hike. With her first step, Lily felt like it was new start, and hoped the hike would change their relationship. “Maybe I can find ways to prove myself on the hike,” Lily thought as they set off.

Lily also decided that if this was to be her last camping trip, she wanted to capture her memories in photos. At one point on the trail, Lily had to stand on the edge where there was a steep drop-off, to take pictures of the forest below. As she was focusing on a deer among the tree trunks, her father quickly brought her away, saying,
“You might trip and fall, and then you would scrape yourself up!”

The only memory Lily captured on film was a flurry of brown and green; however, she had one more memory of her dad treating her like a child to add to her collection. Lily looked up into her father’s face. She saw an awkward smile, but in his eyes, she saw worry. She wondered why.

She soon forgot about how her father looked, and tried to put the incident out of her mind. As they continued on their hike, Lily found that she couldn’t help getting madder and madder about her father having been so overprotective of her on the entire trip.

She tried to fish with her father in a nearby creek, she was told, “Ok, but stay on the edge of the creek and let me bait the hook for you, and don’t forget to stay close.” She couldn’t believe that he talked to her like she had never fished before, so she quit fishing and set out to find a spot to put up camp. Lily found the perfect campsite just as her father was coming over a hill, carrying four fish. Before she could share what she found, he thrust the glistening fish into Lily’s hands and said, “Lily, I’ll find a campsite spot, you sit here and relax.”

Lily couldn’t take it anymore, so she screamed,” Why do you treat me like a baby? Why do you think I can’t do things for myself?”

He hesitated, and then said meekly, “Lily, I don’t mean to. I know you can do things for yourself.”

She softened up a little, “So what is it?”, she demanded, “why are you acting like this?”

Her father replied,” I guess I really didn’t notice, I just wanted you to need me.”

She whispered in response, “I’ll always need you,” and his face brightened, but then she added jocularly, “except when I can do it myself,” his face then slightly fell, but he still laughed.

Lily’s father said hopefully, “Well, why don’t I take these fish, and you can set up camp?”

She handed him the fish and replied, “Sure, but I think I’ll need help.”

Lily had only seen what was happening from her perspective, not knowing the real reason of her father’s overprotectiveness. They were glad that this wasn’t the last camping trip for either of them, and they continued camping together for many years.

***************** The End ******************

So, looking from other people’s perspective is important, and you have to think about how other people see the subject. I use this in art, writing, during conversations with people, and on all kinds of things that other people would see. I have to see if what I write or draw looks right from someone else’s perspective. I need to act like I know nothing about the subject I am reading/writing about, and see if the words fit together, so that I, and other people, can understand them the way they were intended.  Sometimes the same image or word can be seen or interpreted from many different angles, and keeping this in mind is very important.

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