A little hand can hold a heart

Yesterday, we went to visit my daughter's church. She'd invited us because she and her husband would be singing a duet and she knew I'd want to hear it. As soon as we arrived, we made our way into the sanctuary. A few minutes later, my youngest granddaughter came bounding in and squeezed into our pew slipping between my youngest daughter and I. She pulled out her little pouch with drawing materials and sat quietly waiting for the service to begin.

As her Mommy and Daddy made their way to the stage to sing, she sidled up closer to me. I was thankful for our relationship.

After the song was done and the preaching started, she began to quietly draw. I leaned over and whispered in her ear giving her an idea of something to draw. Immediately, she smile and began working on the project. When she'd completed it, she ripped the page out of her little notebook and slipped it to me.

I keep all her drawings. I've framed them since she was old enough to scribble with crayons. Over the years, her artistic abilities have improved and I can see, that one day, she may find art an important creative outlet, as have I.

As the service was winding up, the pastor asked the congregation to bow their heads and pray. All of a sudden, I felt a tiny hand slip into mine. My heart sang as I realized she valued me so much she wanted to hold my hand.

She held it throughout the entire prayer and then, as quickly as she'd placed it there, she withdrew it. I couldn't help but smile, knowing she'd always find ways to hold my heart.

She was just a few months old here.

When she was just a babe, I fell in love. Not only was this my granddaughter, she also carried part of my precious daughter in her.

I was so grateful I'd been allowed to be at her birth. What a special day that was! To date, I've been able to attend 4 of my 9 grandchildren's births.

I had the honor and privilege of babysitting this sweet one shortly after her birth to this day. Over time, I've held her little hand and have marveled at how much I love her.

It's interesting to me, how perceptive children are. Whenever she's felt I needed it, she'll give me a big hug or grab my hand as she talks to me. When she does, it's as if our hearts and souls connect.

I got a sticker for going potty back then, too.

As she's grown older, her little hand has gotten bigger. Her fingers are long and slender and I told her she'd make a great piano player.

When she was potty training, her Mommy started a sticker reward program and would place a sticker on the back of my little granddaughter's hand when she made a successful trip to the potty. The program worked so well, that on a visit to my house, little bug told me I needed to go potty so I could have a sticker, too. I thought it was so cute that she wanted to share her pride and joy with me.

I can't wait to see what those little hands grow up to do.

She's now almost 10 and I don't have a recent photo of her holding my hand, but I'll try to get one soon.

I hope she'll never stop wanting to hold my hand. Though my hand has grown old and wrinkly, she doesn't seem to mind.I don't think she knows how powerful her touch is and how she has and always will hold my heart.

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Journey Out of Pink

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