The Gentle Touch

Each night, my husband and I take the time to pray with our kids at bedtime. It's often during those times that we get a bigger glimpse into their relationship with God as we hear the quiet pleadings of their hearts. Last night, my husband and son weren't home, so it was just me and my daughter. As I tucked her into bed, we began our usual prayer time, but I laid my head upon her chest as she prayed. As she was praying, she gently began stroking my hair. Such a small thing really, but it flooded me with so many thoughts all at once- thoughts of the relationship between mother and daughter.

When I was a little girl, I would lay my head in my mother's lap and she had a habit of gently stroking my hair behind my ear. I found so much comfort in that. We'd just sit there in the quiet with our thoughts as she continued. Years later, I had the joy of stroking her face as she lay in her hospital bed in her final hours. I held her hand, I stroked her cheek, and in the silence of the moment we communicated. She was a very affectionate person, loving every hug or touch I would give her.

So, last night as my precious girl prayed and stroked my hair, I remembered the love of my own mother and how her love has trickled down to me and now to my girl. Love returning through the generations. And I was thankful for being sandwiched between two women in my life whose touch has comforted me. And I relfected upon the fact that the gentle stroking of a mother's hair is a priceless gift- one that says I love you, I'm here with you, I'm taking care of you as you did for me.