53 bikers showed up in suits when school said fatherless girls couldn’t attend the daddy-daughter dance, and what happened when the music started made every single person in that gymnasium cry. My daughter Sita is eight years old. Her father left before she was born. Never met her. Never sent a birthday card. Never even acknowledged she existed. For eight years, I’ve been mom and dad, doing everything I can to make sure Sita never feels that hole in her life. But some holes c…

I called the school hoping there was some alternative. Maybe moms could attend. Maybe grandfathers or uncles. The secretary’s response destroyed me.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Patterson. The dance is specifically for fathers and daughters. It’s tradition. We can’t make exceptions or it wouldn’t be fair to the other families.”

“But my daughter doesn’t have a father. She’s never had a father.”

“Then perhaps this event isn’t appropriate for her. There will be other school activities she can participate in.”

I hung up and cried for an hour.

That night I had to tell Sita she couldn’t go. Had to watch her face crumble. Had to hold her while she sobbed and asked me why her daddy didn’t love her enough to stay.

“Am I not good enough, Mommy? Is that why I don’t have a daddy like everyone else?”

I didn’t know what to say. What do you tell an eight-year-old who’s just realized she’s different? Who’s just discovered that a piece of her life is missing that other kids have?

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