I remember thinking that no matter what I would go through or whatever I would be faced with, whether they poked me, stuck me, pulled on me, gave me some medicine I didn't like, I knew one thing. If my dad just continued to hold my hand, everything would be all right (Don't let go my hand, pop). Now that I've gotten older and have come to the point of better understanding of God, I call that path we used to walk on "The Path of Righteousness."