As he laid his on mine I could feel the warmth but his skin was so soft I could barely feel his hand at all. What you can't see in this photograph is his innocent face, his trusting but almost apprehensive smile, and his soft blue eyes. He wasn't really sure if he should be touching my hand or not, not sure what it meant, not sure if he was brave enough...but he reached out and he did it...he is 9 months old.
As I looked at his hand and mine together many thoughts ran through my mind. How many places my hands have been, how many miles they have traveled, what they have done, and how many times I have skinned a knuckle or blackened a fingernail. How many blisters have come and gone, and how many words they have written. Thoughts of the multitude of hands that have shaken mine, and of the few faces that met them during fits of anger. Then my thoughts turned to his; how young, how inexperienced, and how new. Thoughts of all the wonderful, and some not so wonderful experiences they will have...it's amazing the difference 61 years can make.
Great picture and I like your post as well.
ReplyDeleteI love it! I'm glad he has such as experienced Grandfather to help him on his way. I'd love a copy of this picture.
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