Little arms

This morning when Henry called me into his room, he wrapped his little arm around my neck and held me close for a few minutes.

I didn't even know I missed that.

The summers Henry was three years old, Henry was sleeping in a big bed and I usually laid with him at nap time. Sometimes I fell asleep with him, sometimes I didn't, but I always relished his sweet breath on my face and his pudgy arms around me. There were days I felt a bit guilty about not accomplishing anything during Henry's nap, but I quickly pushed those thoughts aside and enjoyed the time with my baby boy. I knew it would end all too soon.

Sure enough, nap time ended. Long, warm afternoons tucked under covers ended. Arms threatening to cut off my oxygen and pulling me tighter if I tried to leave - that ended too.

His arm is slender now, but I still love the feel of it around me. His face is not round anymore, yet I still gaze at it with wonder. Wonder that God could let this boy be mine.