Little Hands 

My daughter

Crawls into my lap

For just a little while;

And as she does

I see her hands

And I can’t help but smile.

 

I reminisce

And contemplate

The day that she arrived;

I marvel

At how valiantly

She fought to stay alive.

 

I reverently

Looked at her hands

So tiny and so new

And wondered

As her life progressed

What would

Those small hands do?

 

And now I see

They’ve grown a bit

Those chubby little hands;

They’ve learned to love

And do what’s right

Obeying her commands.

 

One day too soon

They’ll grow

And grasp

Another pair like hers

And they will work

In unison

To comfort and to serve.

 

These little hands

With purpose great

From Heaven up above

Are a precious gift,

A symbol of our

Heavenly Father’s love.

 

Author's Comments: The birth of our youngest daughter was truly a miracle. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about how we almost missed out on having her in our family. I’m so grateful for the whisperings of the spirit; for experiences that humbled me and blessed me with an awareness that someone was missing. Our family would not be the same without her.