I have always had a fascination with boys and their hands. I remember being younger and looking down the row at church watching my mom tickle my brothers’ hands and arms with her finger nails. I remember wondering what it must be like for a mom to look at her boys’ hands, hands that have grown so much that they now dwarf hers, hands that use to be so tiny and pudgy that they could only hold one of her fingers. I imagined that it must be a tender memory for moms of boys. That thought has always stayed with me. Sometimes when I was holding a boy's hand, I would wonder if his mom wished that she was still the one who got to hold his hand as they walked (Thats wierd right?). Well, now I am the mom of two little boys. I look at their hands and feel sad that chubby little knuckles are thinning out. I wonder what great things they will do as their soft little hands become strong and protective. I think about the blessings their sweet little hands will give someday. I love these little hands and I cherish this time that I have to be one who gets to hold them and tickle them at church with my finger nails.Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Little Hands
I have always had a fascination with boys and their hands. I remember being younger and looking down the row at church watching my mom tickle my brothers’ hands and arms with her finger nails. I remember wondering what it must be like for a mom to look at her boys’ hands, hands that have grown so much that they now dwarf hers, hands that use to be so tiny and pudgy that they could only hold one of her fingers. I imagined that it must be a tender memory for moms of boys. That thought has always stayed with me. Sometimes when I was holding a boy's hand, I would wonder if his mom wished that she was still the one who got to hold his hand as they walked (Thats wierd right?). Well, now I am the mom of two little boys. I look at their hands and feel sad that chubby little knuckles are thinning out. I wonder what great things they will do as their soft little hands become strong and protective. I think about the blessings their sweet little hands will give someday. I love these little hands and I cherish this time that I have to be one who gets to hold them and tickle them at church with my finger nails.
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10 comments:
Oh, Shannon...how sweet. I love little hands too.
I actually have also always loved the big hands of my childhood. Both my dad and grandpa have great hands. Hands that are strong and hardworking, yet also so gentle and protective.
Just think of how their own little girls will love their daddy's big grown hands someday.
Oh I love that thought too. There is just something about dads hands to.
Hi Shannon. I love your blog. Such a cute family you have. Thanks for checking in on my blog, it's always fun to see how everyone is doing. I told Miriam you said "hi" and I told her to get a blog. I'll let you know "if" she really does it. I'll check in on you and your sister in law Alison now that I have your blogs. (Thanks to you and Summer) Take care!
I love that picture...that is so precious! You are such a great mom and I am so impressed with your patience and love towards your boys!
I'm liking all these little mom stories you are putting together! Very sweet & tender. Your family will always smile looking back at your thoughts during their young years.
I was holding Slater's hand today and was cherishing his touch, wondering when he wouldn't want to hold my hand any longer. Oh how I hope that day never comes.
Ben did not say that it was Rebecca!!!
Funny, I was thinking what a tender husband you have. We are sisters for sure huh!
Oh, that was a sweet post. I too look at Henry's hands and am amazed that someday his will be bigger than mine. hopefully, not too soon.
Oh Shannon, you have made me cry! You really have a gift of expressing yourself. I thought about all of the times my boys have held their hands up to mine to see who's is larger. Of course they are all larger than mine now, even though I have always told them that they can't grow up! In my bedroom, I have all of my children's handprints from kindergarten, hanging on the wall. Every so often, one of them will come in and compare their hand now, to their hand, then. They always get a kick out of how small their hands use to be. Thank you Shannon, for seeing the joy in these moments of your life. I love you! Aunt Suzanne
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