They say the very young and the very old have the softest hearts.
That one possesses wisdom while in the other innocence dwells.
Which is perhaps, they say, why these two ends of the rainbow
get along so well.
As I was walking in the park he came up from behind…
He gently took my hand in his…he had something on his mind.
There were birds along the waters edge…
he didn’t wait for my assent…
he pointed in their direction, tugged my hand
and, quickly, off we went.
We chased the birds to our mutual delight…
his grip…determined, safe and strong.
The birds would fly away then fly right back
happy to play along.
He was not afraid to be near the water…
not afraid of the unknown…
Instinctively he knew by holding hands
he was not there alone.
We only walked together for a little while
before his interest realigned…
But even as he toddled off
he left his palm print etched in mine….
I say it matters not how old you are
if you walk hand in hand with a young one often…
every time they slip their hand in yours
your heart is bound to soften.
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