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Tiny fingers coiled around my own,
A special little life is this.
In my heart a joy as yet unknown,
Rising up, sheds perfect bliss.
My memories of pain in labor
Now are fading, growing dim,
Swallowed up in sweet contentment
As I sit and gaze at him.
My baby boy grows bigger, stronger,
wriggling, kicking, reaching high.
Yet, when pangs of hunger stir him,
Frowning then, he starts to cry.
With loving hands I reach to hold him,
He nestles close, his body stilled.
He’s so dependent and so needy,
My heart is touched, my eyes are filled.
I pondered how our Father God
Sent His Son, so small and bare,
Exposed to danger, evil, sorrow,
Helpless babe in Mary’s care.
Her mother-heart now drew me on,
As I embraced my little one.
I’d love and watch and care for him,
Until, like her, my work was done.
Could it be a baby’s helpless state,
His pleading smile, his sleepy nod,
Are meant to give us gentle hearts,
And use our arms as arms of God?
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