Parable upon one of the names of the Father

Father sat behind His desk at the far end of the long room. Daughter looked at Him from near the door after having recently entered the room. 'Come', said Father, 'there is nothing for you to be afraid of. There is nothing I have not seen, nor heard. There is nothing you could say nor do that would shock or offend Me. I am love itself. Speak, as you will. Play, as you will. I am permission for all things. Come now, approach Me. Find the freedom that is protected by the reach of My tolerance.' Daughter was slightly encouraged by the benevolent tone of Father's voice. There was really nothing to be afraid of and she knew there was nothing to be afraid of. Daughter took a few steps towards Father. Father moved papers on His desk as if He was not directing His full attention upon the small girl. The girl watched Him and waited. At last, Father looked up and gestured to where He sat, 'Speak. Say something. You must become familiar with your voice, and practice it. You will sit here. One day. Just as I once stood where you stand now.' His joviality bewildered her more than His words. Daughter did not feel ready to speak. She pressed herself back against the door by which she had entered the room, such a long time before.