This picture, at first glance, looks like a child’s scribble.
And it is.
But it is so. much. more.
Y’all probably know this, but for those of you who might not, Poppy’s special need is missing fingers on her left hand, also known as symbrachydactyly. It’s pretty much a non-issue in our day-to-day existence. In fact, I’ve found myself completely forgetting that my sweet girl doesn’t have any fingers on her left hand.
Because the girl can do anything.
Since Poppy came home, we’ve referred to her little hand as just that – her little hand. But we’ve tried to stay very factual about it, and only use the term to differentiate between her two hands… as in, “No Pop, not that hand. Give me your little hand.” We didn’t want to inject any of our emotions to it that might have confused her or caused her to question, prematurely, why her hands don’t exactly match.
Oh, but our other kids. They love her little hand. Isabelle loves Poppy and always wants to specifically hold her little hand. Jude wants to adopt little girl from China one day with “a hand just like Poppy’s!” And Vivienne and Sophie routinely comment on it, usually something like, “It’s sooo cute!”
And so, last fall, Poppy began talking about her little hand. She’d never said anything about it, asked about it or even referred to it before, so the first time she said “my little hand” when referring to her left hand, we all collectively held our breath, wondering if someone had done or said something that might have caused her grief over this realization.
Man, were we wrong. It was just the beginning of a budding love affair that Poppy now has with her beloved little hand. She does not question why it isn’t the same as her other hand, but instead feels special. After all, she and only she, has such a magnificent hand.
She studies it.
She rubs it.
She traces it.
This lovely tracing she did the other day at Maggiano’s. On their tablecloth.
Tallula has even expressed some envy over Poppy’s little hand. I caught them in the middle of an argument a few weeks ago…
Tallula (clutching her own hand): “… my little hand!”
Poppy: “You no have little hand, Lula. I have little hand!”
Oh, that she would maintain this beautiful, and deserved, appreciation of the way she was crafted by her Creator.