A Hand to Hold 美文

A Hand to HoldMy dear, you are so lucky. I used to have what you have.”The well-dressed elderly lady seated in the church pew next to me took me quite by surprise as she leaned in and spoke to me followi ng the Sunday service. Somewhat befuddled, I managed to utter a quiet thank you, although at that instant I was a little unsure of the meaning behind her words. What did I possess that this obviously well-off woman did not? Strands of pearls adorned her neck, and I could not help but notice the many sparkling gemstones that grace d her aging fingers.As I looked down at my own hands, the answer became apparent. Interlocked in my hand was the hand of my husband. Listening to t he sermon together on Sunday mornings had led us to a natural cl oseness to God and to each other. More often than not, my husba nd would reach for my hand during the sermon or put his arm arou nd mine during the time of silent prayer and reflection. This time to gether was sacred to us in more than just the obvious way. With ou r two young daughters in their Sunday school rooms, we reconnect ed and recharged after a hectic week of work, playgroups, and dia per changes.When I looked across the pew at the woman next to me, I realized that she sat alone. Most likely, the husband whose hand once heldhers on Sunday mornings had passed on and left her with the me mories of what I now share with my husband. “I am so lucky,” I whi spered to her in reply. As I stood up and prepared to leave the chur ch, I looked up at my husband, Allen, and smiled. What I have with him is indeed a special blessing.As a thirty-something, stay-at-home mom, I relish the opportunity t o talk with other women my age and swap stories about our young children. However, when the topic turns from life in the preschool c arpool line to complaints about spouses, I become uncharacteristic ally mute. Stories of husbands who do not equally contribute to chil d care or housework are commonplace. The same holds for the hu sbands who travel for days (weeks, months . . . ) on end and have little energy left over for romance or family.After seven years of marriage, I now realize that I am an especially lucky woman!My husband, Allen, once an executive with all the pressures of lon g commutes, business trips, and the very real possibility of transfer ring across the country, away from my close-knit extended family, made the difficult decision to resign from his high-powered job. He now owns his own small business in our hometown. Instead of exe cutive perks, he now gets to see the perky antics of our two little gi rls as we eat lunch together every day. Rather than coming home from work after 7:00 pm, Allen is home like clockwork for our nightly six o’clock family dinner. Like every household with young children , much work is left for the post-dinner hour. We draw baths, read st ories, and wash the dishes. Instead of retreating to the world of ES PN or pretending to tinker with something “manly” in the garage or basement, my husband is right by my side as we complete the nig htly household tasks.When weekends roll around, I am the blessed woman who does n ot need to cook a single meal. Warm maple syrup and hazelnut cof fee aromas waft upward from our kitchen as Allen prepares breakf ast and allows me the luxury of lingering in a hot shower. This won derful man does not hesitate to give me a much-needed break whe never I want to go shopping or out to lunch with friends. When I ret urn I find snowmen in our yard, LEGO castles in our playroom, and my two sweet princesses wearing paper crowns that Daddy cut ou t for them to wear.“Dad made us a teddy bear picnic while you were at Target!” my fo ur-year-old excitedly exclaims as I enter the door, loaded down wit h shopping bags.“We had real food! Pretzels and raisins on the big blanket!”I am given alone time to shop and socialize sans diaper bags, but my children are the recipients of the real gift . . . time spent with their amazing father.The man who irons all of our clothes, cooks, cleans, and wraps ev ery Christmas present (honestly, all I do is put on the sticky bows a nd gift tags!) is also generous with his affection toward me. After th e children are asleep, I often find myself sitting in front of a warm fi re or a few lit candles. Herbal tea is served to me as we discuss ou r ¬children’s latest antics or our hopes for the future.I realize that the elderly lady in church was quite correct. What I po ssess is truly special. I am the luckiest woman in the world to be bl essed with such a caring, giving husband. Through the words of a complete stranger, I am reminded to cherish each moment with the man I love. I fully intend to keep his hand intertwined in mine for a s long as God allows.。