hold my hand

little ayel is nine months old and owner of two upper and four lower front teeth which she displays quite very often. she not only delights us with her songs and dances, she has also been repeating words she hears from us (her own version, of course).

for the last two weeks, she has successfully managed to stand on her own and take one or two steps before grabbing my hand for support. to this, we would applaud and ask her to try again.

my son R (ayel's dad) managed to walk on his own when he was exactly ten months old. R was a sturdy child -- i made him stand with his back against the door and asked him to walk towards me. he did. from then on, he started walking by himself...

he used to hold onto my hand and try on a few steps with me standing in front or behind him as he moved. i instantly saw the symbolism -- a parent supporting and guiding a child so he can stand alone and learn how to walk, run and go places.

when my son R started walking, i knew i also had to start learning to let go. his first few attempts were the hardest for i could not resist trying to hold him for fear that he might fall and hit his head or miss a step and fall flat on his face. i wouldn't take my eyes off him -- clearly it was me who feared the thought that he could get hurt. it took a while before i felt confident he was steady enough to hold himself up.

a few blinks after, he was running -- that made me watch him closely even more. over and over, i cautioned him to take it slowly and not to run too fast. next he started trying his feet on the stairs. carefully at first, with hands on the railing. and then off he went -- up and down, down and up, making my heart skip a beat as he took each step. after several trips at the stairs, he became steadier. i started to relax. but it wasn't meant to stay that way for the first step he took was just the start of the many steps he would make -- each one taking him farther and farther away from my sight.

as the days wore on, i learned that as my son grew bigger and taller, the bigger and faster his steps became. and he didn't need to hold my hand to go wherever he wants to be. without his hand on mine, the only thing i held on to was the hopeful prayer that his feet will guide him back towards home every night, safe and sound.

now, it's our little ayel who is slowly making her own tiny steps. wouldn't it be nice if she held onto our hands for the rest of our walking life?