My Mother's Hand

A poem about what a mother's hand should be like

As a child it was my mother's hand that fed me

washed me and patted me lovingly.

As I grew up it helped even more.

It helped me as I learned to cross the street

It helped me when I learned to print my name

It held my hand when I had to get a shot.

My mother's hand held mine as she told me what it meant to become a woman.

My mother's hand shook the day that I said

" I love him and I want to marry him."

I wish that my hand were a mother's hand

as gentle, loving, kind, guiding and strong as my mother's hand.

For as small as it be .....

there is no greater love than the love given to me in my mother's hand....