Childerns fingers, they get into everything, uhew, but that they can be.

I have often heard the the first thing a new momma does when given her new baby, into her arms, is to count the new ones fingers and toes.  Oh, how I love little fingers, four tiny little appendages and one marvelous little thumb together they make up the wonder of wonders, a tiny little human hand.  Oh, I like toes, alright, but nothing on a daily bases assures me more of God than the precious, almost see threw, delicate little hand of a new born baby.  They are so fragile and so magnificent.  How could anyone really think that they were a happenstance of carbons, hydrogen's, slithered from an unknown sea to land.  I can't think of a thing as amazing on earth, or that says to me God Is and God is our creator, than a tiny little hand.  That being said they are the most wondrous, naughty, expressive and communicative parts of a person.

I barely get over the site of a little hand, when it curls around my finger and grasps on to me telling me that I am loved and that tiny little gift from God needs me, I have gotten my first hand holding from my loving child.  My child needs me in a way they never will again, they are not old enough to love me, for me, but they are so in need of me that they have instinctively grasp out and held on to the warmth and love they have known for all the months of their life.  This time, for the first time, when they reach out they touch you, for the first time, not as their cocoon but as a separate and wholly independent, well futurely independent, but as a separate never to return to being a physically part of your being again.  They have begun their life outside of the womb, you get to raise them guide them and love them, but no longer are you, and you alone, in control of their existence.  Your sacred duty to growing them to where they can survive out on their own it over, now your duty is to teach them and help them survive, to grow to adulthood and to their eventually life totally apart from you. 

That little finger will be sucked on for comfort, it will scratch you in the beginning without intent and then with, and fascinate you; as it grows it will be pointed at you, shook at you with it's friend "no", it will spend time up noses, yours and theirs, it will eventually accuse you of innumerable things, it may even be sent to you as a bird. It will eventually, and periodically along the way, come to you, curl around yours again and remember that once at the beginning of your time together, it grasp out to yours and you took a hold of it without pause and you have been, and always will be, there to grasp hold and seek comfort from. I can't and don't know a more loving caress than the holding of a hand, a parent's, a child's, a grandchild's, a daughter's, a son's, a husband's and at the end of it all the Lord's.  I hope you get to hold a hand today and everyday.... tomorrow.