Her little hand

Someday this little hand might cook or clean or sew or tend a garden or busily can fresh vegetables for a hungry family. Someday it might touch a firstborn child or hold a husband's hand or smooth a sick child's brow or wipe pain filled eyes. Someday this hand might feed the hungry in africa or fold in prayer for the lost. And someday this little hand will fold in death. But today? Today this little hand needs mine. It reaches for mine to go on a walk, it pats my back when i pick her up, and when she's tired or hurt this little hand searches for mine and her fingers caress my familiar skin. This nap time ritual is made sweeter by the fact that once it was my little hand that needed my mother's. My little hand that searched and felt for the familiar skin. Someday this little hand won't need mine anymore but today? I treasure today.