This was a letter I wrote to my now fourteen year old son shortly after he was born. I had the privilege to read it to him for the first time at his confirmation this past May.
August 29, 1993
I was sitting with you in my arms today and watched you sleeping. I couldn't help but notice those tiny little hands.
As I sat there and examined your tiny little hands, I couldn't help but wonder what would become of those hands in your lifetime. Would they toil in hard labor, becoming callused and hard? Maybe they would pen words that would inspire generations to come. Possibly they would point the way as you lead men into battle. Maybe they would mold great works of art from a clump of clay.
Could they play inspired music to soothe the soul? Would they produce the cure for dreaded disease? Maybe develop the plan for a leveraged buyout. Is it possible that they could hold the bat that wins the deciding game of the World Series, throws the winning touchdown in the Super Bowl or sinks the twelve-foot putt to win the Masters?
And as I sat there I also thought of the things I hoped for those hands and the little man who owned them.
I hope that they will serve you well in all you try. I hope you will learn from their exploration of this big old world. May they allow you to hold on to all that's important in your life.
As they wipe the sweat from your brow, may you find satisfaction in a job well done. May they defend you well when faced with adversity? May they also hold you back to reason before fighting. It's O.K. to back down but never back away from those things that you truly believe.
I hope these hands will know the gentle touch of a good woman and loving children. May they never be too busy to hold those things that are truly important in your life? And even though they may grow tough and hard may they also be gentle enough to reassure and comfort those in need.
In closing, I want to remind you to get down on your knees and fold those little hands to give thanks to a loving and caring God that makes all we have in this life possible.