The Hand

November 25

There it is! The shadow of a hand is on my bedroom floor. I scream as only a seven year old can. My mother flicks on the light. I insist the hand was there. My mother turns out the light and sits on my bed. Soon the moonlight reappears on the floor. “Look,” I yell, “There is THE HAND.”I hear her gasp. My mother saw it too. In the light I can see a frown then a smile. She removes a cutout of Pinocchio waving from the wall. I am thankful for a mother who showed her boy compassion.

“Then cradling a child in His arms, Jesus said,'Whoever embraces one of these children as I do embraces me and God who sent me." (Mark 9:36-37.)