Susan's Thursday morning note August 27, 2009 Baby Fingers Poem by Lillenas. Little hands of our children..."playing on the vibrant harp-strings of my heart"
Good morning!! I’m out of coffee and out of filler…how’s that for a start?! Stu suggests Moroccan Mint Tea – says that’s full of caffeine…I’m skeptical! I can see Camden sleeping as I type. See his little hands laying so still. So peaceful. Where will those fingers go today? What will they feel? What will they touch? They look as they did in the crib.. Now 8 years later. The same little hand…yet so different.
I was so excited to have a few hours in my home alone this week since he was in school. The simplest pleasures I was looking forward to such as…the couch pillows staying in their “right” spot, the kitchen counter having only my pretty mug…the table with just a pretty flower and my favorite book….no Rubik’s cubes, no dice for stacking, no chip leftovers, no disgusting water glass with who knows what floating in it. Just a perfect little scene for a lady. I didn’t get to have the time home after all, but I did see this poem and laugh (okay, cry!) All that I was imagining missing….I can’t imagine missing!
This poem was in the back of a hymnal from the 1940’s by Lillenas. This little book was left for me yesterday by one of you (once again!) that was packing to move out of town…leaving me poetry. What a poem this is – if your home is now what I’d pictured without the children’s prints anymore….thank God you have the memories! I hope you love this as much as I did & enjoy the slide show I made of the little hands playing in our store!
Baby Fingers While I read, someone is mussing up my hair, Boldly climbing on my knee into my chair, Pulling, tugging and disturbing here and there - Baby fingers! Leaving marks upon the spotless window pane, Letting nothing in its proper place remain, Setting topsy-turvy all my fair domain - Baby fingers! Playing on the vibrant harp-strings of my heart, Oh, what magic consolation they impart! Bringing back the memories that would depart - Baby fingers! Rosy, dirty, pudgy fingers, dear to me, What a dreary, lonesome place this world would be If I could not feel you tugging at my knee - Baby fingers!
Playing on the vibrant harp-strings of my heart. Don’t you love that line? Dirty, pudgy fingers dear to me (when was his last bath, anyway?). I am looking at that little dirty hand right now (if it stays dirty, he builds up antibodies, right?). A photograph that will be forever ingrained in the photo album in my head. The little beautiful gifts from God. Play on my strings, little ones. I want to notice. Continually notice the littlest details of God’s creation. Little hands. Big hands. (We could include the cats paws on this – I’ll keep the little cats in exchange for the prints on the hood of my car & the little moles they leave me for gifts…those paws are so intriguing (once again, when they’re asleep! Opening, closing during a deep purr….) Such beautiful works of art by our Creator!
Let us make decisions today that no one knows you make that make us proud. Make the epitaph we write tonight for the time that is gone today be worthy of making note. And, never forget the promise, that if we look to the hills, or drop one foot to our knees in prayer…our help and peace is there. Susan
Latin for this week: Cedo manum - Give me your hand. Manus in Mano - Hand in hand. Works Cited: Lillenas, Haldor. Favorite Radio Songs and Poems. Kansas City, MO. Lillenas Publishing Co. 1940.