Natalie HelmIsland Pacific School, Bowen Island, BC CanadaCommonwealth Essay B.5.Long Way Home.Do you ever get the feeling that you need a little bit more time? Just a little bit longer to sit in silence, describe the day youhad, or explain your side of the story? Maybe just to sit there with someone you love. I feel like that everyday. I will explain that alittle later.Many people are in a hurry, all day long. They try to find short cuts, ways to speed up the their day. Not me, nor my littlegirl Gracie; we like the long way home. To us, it consists of two stop signs, four extra turns, and one long bumpy road, and mostlikely a few laughs, or at least a smile. It doesn't occur to me how, or when this little event started. It just did."Lets take the long way home" says Grace, my eleven year old daughter, as she hopped into my truck. I turn the key in theignition and we both feel the car rumble beneath us. As per usual, we drove down the dirt road away from Gracie's school.As we passed our first turn, I smiled, and suggested that we go straight home today, and not take the long way. I didn't feellike talking. I realize now, that it is important she persuaded me the opposite.Grace and I had our regular chit-chat, "How was school? Learn anything new?" Grace always replied with somethinginteresting, usually an odd fact that she picked up from her friends: "School was fine. Did ya know that the plastic tip of your shoelace is called an aglet?" Our conversations were never particularly necessary, but they made me feel like there was a part of me still glowing.As I felt that glow, I realized, I had to tell her. I had to tell her on our way home, if not her Mother would, and thatcouldn't happen. I knew that this ride home, would be one of the ones Grace would remember.We started our way down the long bumpy road, she kept talking, I was half listening, nodding, adding the occasional yesor hmm to keep the conversation going. As we passed our second turn, I realized that we only had two more turns and one stopsign until we arrived.I slowed down the car to a near stop, as we approached the house. My trembling hand shook as I placed it on her knee.She was staring right at me--her beautiful blue eyes locked, staring strongly into mine. I watched her for a minute, nervous,excited, wondering, scared. She was so full of emotion, not knowing what to expect; and me, with only one emotion, hope.I cleared my throat, and opened my mouth, nothing came out. I tried again, this time a whole bunch of words slurred "I'msorry, I wish this never happened. I didn't mean for it to. I will try my best. I will be here for a while longer."I stopped myself. Gracie looked terrified. As if her father had gone insane. What if I had--I was just about to tell her thather mentor, the man who had picked her up every day from school since kindergarten, made 365 peanut butter and bananasandwiches a year, been to every soccer, ballet, and art show she had, the man who tucked her little girl in to bed every night, andthe person who had a secret handshake with her since her 4th princess birthday party; I was about to tell my little girl, that her