by YSABEL SACRAMENTO
DELICATE is one of the many words that describe a child’s touch. Soft, fragile, unwrinkled— these portray a child’s touch the best. Similar to the vein pumping from their wrist, all the way to their chest.
Lightly and quietly beating, their hearts are just as fragile and untroubled like their hands. They wear a veil of innocence, it cloaks them from what may dirty their hands. Their hearts are pure as the smooth touch of their palms, their hands clean like the hearts they wear on their sleeves.
The future resides within the palm of their hands: yet to unfold, yet to appear more wrinkled and beaten. For now, their touch is light and fleeting. In many years to come, light and fleeting will only serve as the sensations of the other hand that they will touch.
These hands will soon turn calloused and rough, when time passes and their hands learn how to live with struggle— they become the hands that are toughened to touch the hearts of others. A lending hand in the middle of the ever-changing world, soft and warm, compassionate and caring.
In the crevices of their palms lie multiple pathways of what they are yet to become: the journey of what they are yet to be, and what they ought to be.
These are the hands that will touch the hearts of the people. The hands that may save a life, or give meaning to life. F
