One of the best parts of being a mom is having your little person come running to you after getting hurt, arms stretched out your direction, tears and snot, yelling, "Mooooom!" You pick him up and he drapes himself into "his" spot over your left shoulder, face nestled in your neck, ever-lengthening legs wrapped around your waist, holding on for life, come back to the safe place that is "mama."
This afternoon at a neighbor's house, an Ethiopian girl Bee's age got her finger slammed in a door. The pitch of her wailing made my ears ring. Her dad and the other grown-ups there nursed her with ice-packs, towels, band-aids and attempts at distraction. She was brave. Through her continued sobbing, she still said "please" and "thank you for letting us come over." By the time her dad was carrying her out to the car, her crying had quieted, but then she remembered: Mother. The crying started again with "I want Mom! I want Mom!" Thankfully her mom was waiting for her at home, and her safe mama place was only a little over a mile away.
Please, dear God, keep our little Bee's little fingers safe from doors that slam. And when the time comes, my left shoulder and arms are ready to hold this 37 pound girl who needs a soft landing place.