The Hands That Hold My Hands

The hand I held today was soft and small….

She climbed out of the backseat, all smiles, and immediately reached for my hand. The cool air, uncommon for this time of year, greeted us as she clasped my hand tightly, confident in my ability to guide her. It was time for her Kindergarten screening, and her excitement brimmed over into nervous chatter as we walked steadily along the sidewalk. She’d been asking all week how many days until she could see her new school, and meet her new teachers. Today was the day. Though thrilled, now that the day had dawned, she was also nervous. Nervousness prompted this fiercely independent child of mine to reach for my hand, giving her a sense of peace and confidence that all would be well.

The hand I held on Wednesday…

was smaller still. It wasn’t all that long ago, just a couple of years actually, that he could only grip one of my fingers in his tiny fist…

[Click the link below to read the full article on Her View From Home.  May we always remember that no matter where we are, we always have a Hand to hold.]

http://herviewfromhome.com/the-hands-that-hold-my-hands/

 

 

 

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