My Daughter's Hands

This post was originally published on February 16, 2006.

Tonight my one-year-old daughter Corrie has a cold.  She was having trouble sleeping, so I had the distinct pleasure of rocking her--for a long, long time--to sleep.  We sat there in the dark of her room, the rocking chair creaking slightly, her slow, even breaths a little raspy from her cold.  Her head was nuzzled into my neck, and her right hand softly gripped the fabric of my shirt on my chest. 

Corrie's hand.  It's a plump little thing--dimpled, smooth and creamy white.  I've always been fascinated by my children's hands, but tonight as I looked at Corrie's, I was overwhelmed with happiness--and a little sadness--to think of where those hands will travel.  Tonight they're flawless little hands, untested by life's challenges and inexperienced in its joys.  But where will those little hands go tomorrow, and the next day, and the next?...

Any day now those little hands will let go of mine as she takes her first step.

They'll grasp a pencil as she clumsily but surely learn to write. 

They'll grip handlebars with a mix of joy and horror as her Daddy runs behind her on her bike, almost ready to let go.

In the teenage years those hands will wipe away many adolescent tears and slam many doors, but maybe, if I play my cards right, they'll still reach out for mine every now and then.

They'll pack her belongings as she leaves for home.  And they'll open our front door again as she comes back to visit.  A lot, if she knows what's good for her.   

How I pray those precious hands spend more time spread open in joy, rather than clenched in anguish.  But wherever they travel, I hope they're often clasped in prayer.  I hope they're helpful hands, and merciful ones, and I hope they always have many, many other hands to grab onto.

They'll wear a diamond from a handsome young man, and they'll loosely hold her father's tuxedoed arm, eager to reach out for her future at the end of the aisle. 

Those hands will grasp the bedsheets in pain as she fights to deliver her child, and they'll tremble in joy when she holds him or her the first time. They'll feel many little foreheads, apply many band-aids and hold open many books.  And then, one night, she'll rock that baby to sleep, and she'll stare in bittersweet wonder...at its little hands.

Comments

[gracie]

I think I need to read this to my daughter (when she's in a good mood)... Miss 8 going on 16 is already slamming a few too many doors :S
Very well written!

[Melzie]

Your wilderness post I can relate to (BTDT unfortunately) and it was excellent but this post made me cry. I am sending my 4 yr old son to pre-k a week from today and have bawled daily as a result :*) Thanks for the excellent post! xoxo melzie

[Tsh]

Wow... Thanks for starting my day off with the right perspective! I'm in tears. I think I'll print this to remember it often as I look at my baby girl.

[Carol]

They grow up so fast. My daughter's hands are as big as mine now. Wasn't it just last night, they lay quietly as she dozed in her little toddler bed, chubby fingers clutching her Teddy Bear?

Way too fast.

[Big Mama]

What a beautiful post. I have a 3 year old daughter and I'm going to save this to read from time to time.

[Big Mama]

What a beautiful post. I have a 3 year old daughter and I'm going to save this to read from time to time.

[Stacey]

I love it!! You did such a wonderful job writing that. I was getting teary eyed just reading it. Thanks for that perspective!

[Holly]

Beautiful. I'm going to go kiss four precious hands and appreciate the gift I have in being the mother who gets to hold them.

Thank you for a great perspective to start the week.

God Bless you!

[janiners]

too precious! i can't wait to see my little boy's hands. this was just beautiful and high on the sniffly, need-a-tissue-to-read list.

[Karla]

Well, now I'm just spent. *sob sniffle sob*
I'm glad I'm not the only one who looks at my little one & thinks of things like that.
Beautiful post. Off to get the Kleenex.

[cjoy]

My daughter is one and a half; this post made my tears drip involuntarily! Life moves forward faster each day, I think.

[Jenny]

That is beautiful! I think that would be a really neat thing to print out in a pretty font and frame along with a picture of her little hands. What a treasure!

[Kaci]

Oh, my - this is so unbelievably beautiful. I'm all teary eyed, now. Thank you for (re)sharing.

[Susanne]

How beautiful, Shannon!

[Faith]

So beautiful Shannon!

[Bev]

Daughter #2 is due to deliver her first child in a week or two. It was hard to hug her goodbye, knowing what she was facing for the first time. That you look at this one year old, and see that far into the future with her, tells me you are #1 brave, deep to the core of you, and #2 well-equipped to take on the privilege and challenge of raising her. So well said.

[Chappyswife]

Beautifully said, Shannon. I do this, too. It just about rips my heart in two because they grow so fast.