Who Was Holding Who
I sat quietly at the edge of the lake, shoes off, dipping my feet into her cool, whispering waters. Each ripple felt like a gentle hand, soothing the tired ache of a long, relentless week. I had come seeking calm—not answers, just a pause. A moment to let the world hush around me.
Behind me, laughter floated like music—the light giggle of my three-year-old niece, the soft voice of my sister and her husband, the rustle of mango leaves in the breeze. My family sat in the shade, wrapped in simple joy, sharing snacks and small talk. I had drifted away with a gentle excuse, not wanting to let my heavy thoughts cast shadows on their sunny ease.
The lake greeted me with her quiet wisdom, the breeze caressed my cheeks, and I tried…tried hard….to let go. But the thoughts of coming days clung like squatters in my mind, refusing to be evicted.
Then, a tiny warmth pressed into my arm.
I turned, and there she was….my niece…her eyes bright with a magic only children carry, her smile wide and real and utterly disarming. She said nothing, just slipped her small hand into mine. I held it….perhaps for her safety, perhaps for mine.
Together, we stared at the still water, as if trying to trace the paths my thoughts had taken. But something shifted in that silence. Her presence was like a lantern lit inside me…..soft, steady, and full of purpose.
In that small hand, I found my reason to be strong. In her wide, wondering eyes, I found the courage I thought I’d lost. The heaviness in my chest began to lift, and the worries that once loomed like giants now felt no bigger than pebbles scattered along the shore.
I felt the strain melt from my lips, widening into a smile born of blooming joy—a love so pure, it softened the whole world around me.
And as we sat there, her tiny hand in mine, I couldn’t help but wonder…
Who was holding who?
Behind me, laughter floated like music—the light giggle of my three-year-old niece, the soft voice of my sister and her husband, the rustle of mango leaves in the breeze. My family sat in the shade, wrapped in simple joy, sharing snacks and small talk. I had drifted away with a gentle excuse, not wanting to let my heavy thoughts cast shadows on their sunny ease.
The lake greeted me with her quiet wisdom, the breeze caressed my cheeks, and I tried…tried hard….to let go. But the thoughts of coming days clung like squatters in my mind, refusing to be evicted.
Then, a tiny warmth pressed into my arm.
I turned, and there she was….my niece…her eyes bright with a magic only children carry, her smile wide and real and utterly disarming. She said nothing, just slipped her small hand into mine. I held it….perhaps for her safety, perhaps for mine.
Together, we stared at the still water, as if trying to trace the paths my thoughts had taken. But something shifted in that silence. Her presence was like a lantern lit inside me…..soft, steady, and full of purpose.
In that small hand, I found my reason to be strong. In her wide, wondering eyes, I found the courage I thought I’d lost. The heaviness in my chest began to lift, and the worries that once loomed like giants now felt no bigger than pebbles scattered along the shore.
I felt the strain melt from my lips, widening into a smile born of blooming joy—a love so pure, it softened the whole world around me.
And as we sat there, her tiny hand in mine, I couldn’t help but wonder…
Who was holding who?
