We cherish the moments we walk with a child. Hands holding
soft but firm. We adjust our stride to meet theirs. We look for danger. We give
them strength but encourage their own. Time passes so slowly and life fills
abundant and gentle. We change our voice so it is soft, gentle and encouraging.
We remember how to laugh. We remember how to see. We notice. We listen. All
because we walk with a child. Would that in all our walks, whatever the age of
the one we are with, we would see the child. And with a soft whisper, reach out
our hand, and say, “Come walk with me.”
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