Arms Wide Open

I ask her if she wants see mommy and she throws her arms out at me. I pick her up, I zip up her coat and she puts her arms around my neck, she looks at me trustingly, she knows where I am taking her. I carry her outside, down the steps and as we round the bend she pushes to be out of my arms. I sit her on her feet. She begins to run and her mother puts out her arms. The little girl who looked so trustingly at me yells "momma" and runs into her mothers arms.

Those arms aren't mine. Those may never be my arms. They're arms that lead to hands that teach, guide, protect, love. I can't imagine the love a mother must feel for her children. They tell me there is no love like it, they tell me I can't fathom it. But sometimes I dream and I begin to imagine. The feeling of something belonging to me, being a part of me. I realize at this moment that I've barely begun to experience some of the greater joys in this life.

The feelings I have now are so selfish. I am working on those feelings but there is almost nothing more selfless than the love of a mother. I can't wait for the day when its all sacrifice all love on my part. I can't wait for the day when the word "mother" will apply to me. I can't wait for her to run to me with open arms.