I have been known to grab, pull, drag, a child’s hand, across a busy road, through a mall, up a sledding hill,
No, not this kind of hand-holding, no, not at all.
I mean the time when little fingers search out yours for no reason other than to connect, touch and be with you. Just you, just because.
It’s the little hand that needs to know you’re there, and you are, aren’t you?
Our little 9ry old sweetie is a divine hand holder. Not only because she generously gives me this gift over and over, but because of the words she once told me.
The direct quote would be
“You know, when I hold someone’s hand, I feel like I’m holding gods hand.”
Whoa, that’s some responsibility, so from this moment I decide to hold her hand a little more gently.
And each time her little palm moulds into mine, I feel a tremendous honor, summoned to be all I can be, for her.