My little people


Special little people in my life, who hold my womanly hand, or nestle into my arms when I give them a hug.
Special little people who cannot fully know the depth of my love for them and yet they feel it whenever I am close.
Seeing through eyes of wonder, as they grow into the bigger people they are here to be, I can only watch with curiosity as my heart expands with the joy they bestow.
My special little people, giving this grandmother a deeper reason for living her life.
Does a grandmother love like she loved her own children? A different kind of love maybe, but a knowing love, a deeper understanding kind of love and the acknowledgment of the treasures she is now gifted with.
Those little moments, however fleeting are stored one by one in the treasure chest of her heart and just as her own children did for her, they expand her and grow her into a maturity that cannot be limited to one garden, but spreads her branches over many landscapes, reaching far into the community spirit, as well as her families home, as we all know too well that spirit of elderhood must grow within us all.
We need the aspiration of our grandmothers to teach us about the necessity of real love, so we might break down the restrictive forces that dominate us.
Take the hand of that little one, and remind yourself why you are truly here. For I as a grandmother wish to remind you, that there is nothing more important than growing the generations to come, to walking the path that we will be proud to have them follow.
Caroline Carey Winter 2021
Photo by Ben Cole

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