A HOPEFUL HEART ◽ YOU
Handprints in the Sand
By Christina Oberon
The tide will come in. It always does. No matter how deeply a hand is pressed into wet sand, the ocean eventually smooths everything away. Yet somehow, that doesn't make the moment less meaningful.
Recently, while spending a day at the beach, my husband, my son, and I pressed our hands into the sand. Three handprints. Three different sizes. Three lives connected by love and family. As I stood looking at them, my heart lingered on the smallest handprint. This July, my son turns eight. How can that be? It seems like only yesterday I was holding a tiny newborn hand wrapped around my finger after waiting years to become a mom. Now that little hand is growing stronger and bigger with each passing year. Before long, it will be larger than mine.
The handprints in the sand reminded me of how quickly life moves. As parents, we spend years teaching, guiding, encouraging, and loving our children. Yet somewhere along the way, we discover they are also teaching us. They teach us wonder and patience. They teach us to celebrate moments that might otherwise pass unnoticed like a day at the beach making handprints in the sand.
The tide has long since washed our handprints away.
The waves have smoothed the sand until no visible trace remains. But the love represented by those impressions cannot be erased. In the same sense, long after childhood has passed, I hope my son remembers that he was loved. I hope he remembers family adventures, sandy toes, laughter carried on ocean breezes, and parents who tried their best to point him toward faith, kindness, and hope.
Looking at those three handprints, I realized that while time moves forward, love leaves lasting impressions. The years may pass, children may grow, and seasons may change, but the marks we leave on one another's hearts remain.
As my son celebrates another birthday this month, I am reminded that some of God's sweetest answers arrive after long seasons of waiting. Looking at that small handprint in the sand, my heart overflows with gratitude for the child I once prayed for and the memories we are still making together. One handprint, one memory, one precious season at a time.