The First Steps

"Time? Approximately ten in the morning, location? Beside the home's fireplace, mission? WALK!" Richard, aged 7 months, firmly set his intention. As he rubbed his chubby hands together, the resolute look on his round face was a surprise to all who saw him.

Margaret, his mother, a woman who radiates radiant joy and has golden eyes, knelt down beside Richard, her hand holding him gently, providing the secure support he needed. It was by the warm fireplace, where they always spent their mornings, that the significant event was about to occur.

Richard, for his part, did not like the way he was treated for being a baby. "I know you're my mother but I'm still an adult man and this is very uncomfortable" Richard thought discontentedly as the bobbing toy in front of him became his enemy.

With the palms of his hands and his knees pressing against the cold, hard floor, Richard moved for the first time.

The definitive day came a month later. It was the eighth month of Richard's birth, a journey that began with the sound of a distant heartbeat and was now about to take a significant turning point.

The early morning sky was vividly clear, spreading the freshness of a new beginning. The atmosphere was festive, as the family gathered to watch Richard take the much anticipated 'real first step'. The chubby baby, with a look of clear determination, and visible stubbornness in his light brown eyes was ready for the big feat.

Robert, Richard's robust father, stepped forward and knelt alongside his wife and son. His presence was like a pylon, solid, and welcoming. He held Richard, balancing the little body in his large, rough hands.

"Are you ready, Richard?" asked Margaret in a soft tone, a maternal smile lighting up her face. "Go ahead, my little one. Become as firm as the soils of our land!" said Robert Richard's father.

In response to his parents' encouragement, Richard, with a concentrated expression, filled his small chest with air and, determinedly, pushed himself off the safety of the mother's hand. He stretched out a hesitant foot, feeling the lack of the support he had grown accustomed to. It took a moment, adjusting to the new reality, before moving the other. The soft soles of his feet turned into tanks dominating the until then unknown border of verticality. Richard was standing up.

He swayed a bit with the instability of the new perspective, the world seemed from a new vantage point, and he returned the gaze from a height never before imagined. He could have collapsed, the still inexperienced bone structure could have floored his attempt. However, Richard's determination, greater than that of any other child, overcame this lack of balance.

And then, the moment they had all awaited eagerly arrived.

One step, hesitating and unsteady, lit up the faces of the parents who watched in love. The wooden planks of the floor, reddened by the hearth fire, were imprinted on the sole of the advancing brave foot, in a gesture that challenged the mechanics of biology. Richard walked.

At first, just one step, immediately followed by another almost faltering. Shoe light, slightly tottering the chubby body, bringing him to the solid abdomen of Robert. But he had done it: his first full steps in the journey of growth. An enthusiastic greeting, full of joy and laughter, echoed through the house, with every clap echoing a celebration of Richard's every tiny step.

Richard refused to let emotion or pride fill his heart. For him, this was just another small step towards his ambitions. But, either way, Richard was pleased.

For Richard, this was more than walking, this was a symbol of his determination, his ability to overcome hardships and to adapt to change. He was ready for the world, ready to face any challenge that came his way.

With a countenance overflowing with genuine paternal pride, added to an affection that framed his robust eyebrows appeared a twinkle that only the light contained in the starry Celtic nights could emanate, Robert, the patriarch of that modest family, gently placed his beloved son in his strong arms, shaped by years of carpentry labor.

Having Richard safe in his arms, he stood up, his work-hardened muscles illuminated by the golden glow of the homemade fireplace. The silhouette of the two stood out against the soft morning light streaming in from the rustic window, showing to anyone who cared to see, the unbreakable connection between father and son.

Crossing the door's frame with a rustic nobility reflected in the radiance of his gaze and the way he held Richard, Robert stepped out. The surrounding village seemed lively, the soft sounds of nature and the distant noise of people working providing a simple, but magical soundtrack for the memorable occasion.

His eagerness to share his joy of the milestone achieved by his son was almost palpable, becoming infectious energy that affected every person he crossed paths with. Robert's body language was eloquent in its simplicity, each conscious gesture conveying the pride he felt for his son.

It was a sphere of contagious energy that gradually grew as it passed through the village neighbors, puffing out his chest with a radiant pride and communicating the significant event: "Look! Look, my son! My Richard, he walked! He... He took his first steps!" Each word was pronounced like a victory cry, proclamation of a deed so grand, as if Richard had conquered the entire kingdom.

"Being lifted up like a trophy for every little thing I do is becoming routine for me, my new father is like that." Richard thought to himself as he was paraded around like a trophy held high above Robert's head, his face indifferent, went unnoticed amidst Robert's contagious joy.

And so, with a reverberation of jubilation and approval that went from the nearby wooden houses neatly aligned along the dirt streets, to the green fields surrounding the village, the news of Richard's first walk was shared. Celebrating a young life reaching a milestone, celebrating an ecstatic father, striking in the simplicity of his emotion.