> ## Content Index
> Fetch the complete content index at: https://www.rubyskitchentable.com/llms.txt
> Use this file to discover other available public pages before exploring further.

# The father watched
- URL: https://www.rubyskitchentable.com/the-father-watched/
- Published: 2026-10-25T10:00:00.000Z
- Updated: 2026-10-25T10:00:00.000Z
- Author: Ruby Hayes
- Tags: devotional

*"But while he was still far off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him." — Luke 15:20*

The prodigal son this morning, and I told it the way I always tell it, which is from the father's side.

I know the boy gets the title. I know the story is usually told as a story about the son who leaves and the son who stays and the father who waits, but I have been the father in this story for forty years now — the one who watches the road — and the story I tell the children is about the watching.

Thomas said, "Miss Ruby, why didn't the father go get him?"

I said I did not know.

That is the truth. I have taught this story for forty-nine years and I do not know why the father stays home. I know he watches. I know he sees the boy while the boy is still far off, which means he was looking, which means he had been looking every day, which means watching was his practice the way prayer is mine — not because it was working but because it was the thing his hands knew how to do.

Sophie said, "Maybe he couldn't."

I looked at her. She is nine years old and in the fourth grade and she will leave this room at the end of this school year because she is too old for my class, and she said maybe he couldn't, and I thought: yes. Maybe the father could not go because the going was the son's to do, and the waiting was the father's to do, and neither one could do the other's part.

Caleb was in his chair. He did not say anything. He watched Thomas and then he watched Sophie and then he watched me, and I taught the rest of the lesson and handed out the coloring sheets and the children colored the father running and the boy coming home, and I sat in my chair and thought about the road and the watching and the boy who was still far off, and I did not cry, and I did not need to, and the story did what the story always does.

*Lord, the father watched. The boy came home. That is the story.*