A Hand of Love and Hand of Faith

"Hold my hand, son." The Mother reached out to her young child and guided him across the road.

In awe he watched the traffic halt and it made him feel like some sort of a God - unstoppable.

"Be sure to wave to the driver for letting you pass." The Mother politely reminded and he followed through. The driver of the car smiled at the pair and patiently allowed them to cross.

"Pedestrians and traffic are a good demonstration of the World, son. Different people go their own ways and at their own pace but it is down to us to let each-other do so and for that we must remain grateful."

The son nodded looking at the ground on the new side of the road.

"Just remember that whatever path or road you take in life; you will always have my unconditional love."

"Hold my hand, son." The Mother reached out to her growing child but received not the same courtesy. Instead, the son backed away and frowned.

"I can cross a stupid road by myself." He roared.

Understandingly, she backed off and walked behind her offspring as he strolled on effortlessly.

'Like a God...' he whispered to himself.

Short on patience and obviously on a fast fuse, the driver looked up to the now green light and pushed his foot down on the gas.

"Mother?"

"Hold my hand, son." The Mother reached out to her young child and guided him across the road. Holding tightly to his small palm, she spoke softly. "My mother always told me that we must remain grateful," she paused to wave her hand at the waiting driver before continuing. "I guess from those words and other events, I've forged that patience is just as important." She felt no need to suggest her son wave his hand up also. "Just hold my hand, son."

She looked left and right at the speeding traffic feeling old, frail and afraid without a mother of her own left standing to hold her hand. She sighed and continued to wait patiently for an opening.

"Mother?" Came a voice, so new but so familiar. "Hold my hand."