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I remember back, as though it was yesterday, when my daughters were just little tykes. There was a great playground just down the hill from our seminary apartment where the girls would climb, slide and swing.

Day after day they’d ask, "Mom, Dad, can we go to the park and swing?" They just loved it when we’d lift them up and onto the swings, and push them higher and higher, seemingly for minutes on end. They never grew tired of having someone at their back to push them to new heights.

For about three years, the girls needed a push from behind, until they got big enough to learn how kick their legs. This too came with some instruction. We’d prop them up and get them going, and then sit down beside them on another swing and teach them how to kick-out and pump their legs.

In time, they learned how to get themselves up and swing on their own. Still, they always enjoyed having mom or dad, or big sister next to them, to share in the experience of swinging, all the while encouraging them all along.

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