The magic of mother's hands

Mother's hands possess magical powers. When they hug me - I was in the house. It always has been, ever since, both in the hospital my tiny fist reflexively cop her finger. Sometimes I think I'm still holding on to him.

As a child, my mother's hand stroking my hair, painted on fishnet iodine bruises and small peas zelenkoj chickenpox, and then necessarily comforting heart on his shoulder. Feed me with a spoon, and jokingly threatened when shalila, and still do in curly princess skirt dandelion and shadow theater in the light of an old desk lamp.

They know all these hands to remove the pain, wiping tears and facilitate life unbearable teenager, bake pies for best friends, students and warm tea during the night session. They lowered a veil on my face and put the palm of his daughter in the human hand, which is trusted. Then suddenly they discovered supernormal ability to repair - and so five times on each of our rented apartments. These hands know exactly how to discreetly throw money, which are in great need, but which will never be asked. They raised me after delivery and is pulled into the band, and then the clock were weighty grandson, until I tried to enter into a new rhythm of life, and shot down his forehead schools from lack of sleep.

Mother's hands support the universal cycle of goodness and love. We cherish all of them get to pass on to their children, and through them - grandchildren. This link between generations and a guarantee of security. Warm, confident and a little rough, they are a constant among the variables in the equation of life.

Going down from the porch, automatically stretch open palm down and slightly backward. All moms know this movement. Instantly little hand son clings to the index finger. Come on, baby, hold on, I'll take you. You just do not let go. Just do not let go.





Natalia Nikitina specifically for the Website
Photos on the preview: Olga Sergievskaya





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