The Hug

As a caregiver for an aging parent riddled with health issues, the winter had seemed extra-long. There were so many needs and there wasn’t much time for myself. Then spring came, and with it a ton of rain. My spirit was drenched. I felt isolated and lacking in hope.

Finally, summer came. My favorite season. It brought hope to my aching heart. A gentle breeze brushed my skin as I sat on the beach, feeling free with an hour all to myself.

“Lord, it’s been hard. So hard. I need a hug, please.” The tired prayer tumbled from my lips. I thought about my children, now grown. No more chubby little arms to wrap around my neck, no more soft heads nestled against my cheek. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply. “Lord, are you there? I feel so alone.”

A small shadow cast over my chair.

“Hi,” I said to the tiny boy holding a shell. “For me?”

He nodded.

His mother rushed over. “C’mon Sam, it’s time to clean up.”

“Hug,” the boy said, his eyes fastened on me.

His mother’s brows lifted. “He never wants to hug anyone. Would you mind?”

“Mind? I’d love it!” With a smile as wide as the ocean, I leaned forward; little Sam wrapped his pudgy arms around me.

God had heard my prayer. He was listening! He’d sent a much-needed hug. In an adorable package!