Friday, July 11, 2014

Hands

This week I held many hands. Some reached out to hold mine, others I reached out to hold. Together, for a moment or more, we held hands together as we walked through a moment in time. These moments held buckets of water, hopes, dreams, hugs, tears, pain, comfort, security, trust, and love.

At General Hospital this morning I held the hand of a premature baby. The hand of a premature baby is about the size of the tip of my thumb. It is soft, fragile, and vulnerable. It has yet to experience the life that lay before it. My eyes filled with tears as I thought of what might possibly lie ahead for this sweet innocent baby here in the throes of poverty in Haiti. The mother sat close by with worry and hope in her eyes. Next to her in the next bed was another baby, and next to her was another baby, and then another and another, until finally two full rooms were filled with tiny little hands.

At Reiser Heights School, Cite Soleil, and Gertrude's, I held the hands of young children. They held on tight with fear wrapped in hope that just maybe, just maybe for a moment, they would feel visible, loved and safe. I held their hand in mine giving them all the love and comfort I could for that moment in time. Their fingers held on tight as it was time to let go.

At the Aube Center, I shook the hands of young adults going to school to educate themselves for a better a better life. They each want to make a difference. Their hands were strong and animated when they talked and sang. They shared their dreams and hopes, their hands raised to the sky.

The hand of an elderly woman in her 90s is thin, frail, rough, weathered, and vulnerable. It has experienced the life that lays behind it. It has held a baby, nursed a baby, raised a child, married, taken care of chores, carried baskets on her head, and, it has aged over time. Today, that hand rested in mine.

Today, I walked one moment at a time through a lifetime of hands.
Tracy Oliver

No comments:

Post a Comment