I imagine that if my mother’s prayers had hands, they would reach out for me everyday of my life. Her prayers and the prayers of my father would reach out for me, covering me - in the same way that the sun inevitably bathed the world in light each morning. Relentless. Unyielding. Unchanging. An act of nature. An act of nurture.
Mar 14, 2018
Mar 14, 2018 at 3:57 PM UTC
I imagine that if my mother’s prayers had hands, they would reach out for me everyday of my life. Her prayers and the prayers of my father would reach out for me, covering me - in the same way that the sun inevitably bathed the world in light each morning. Relentless. Unyielding. Unchanging. An act of nature. An act of nurture.