Life Lesson From a Six Year Old
My daughter Christa is only six years old--but she knows what she needs and she knows how to ask for it.
I admire that.
Right now, Christa neds a lot of hugs and she makes sure I know it. She just tells it like it is: "Mom, I need a hug." We may be sitting on the couch watching TV or we may be walking through the grocery store or we may be eating out at a favorite restaurant (Hers: Chik-fil-a; Mine: California Pizza Kitchen.)
And once she tells me what she needs, she opens her arms up wide, knowing I'll give her a hug. And another. And another--as many as she asks for.
Me? I complicate things in typical adult fashion. I don't ask.
About a week ago I was emotionally taken to my knees. A precious friend's husband's died suddenly of a heart attack on his way home from work.
Just typing those words in this blog makes it hard to breathe. I hurt so deeply for my friend.
I want to comfort her--to wrap my arms around her and somehow make the pain go away. But I can't.
Maybe sometimes a hug doesn't make the pain go away. Maybe a hug just allows a person to find a place to rest for a moment in the comforting embrace of a friend.
I need a hug.