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tiny arms, big truths

 


Tiny Arms, Big Truths



Because children remind us of the love we once carried without conditions.


Of late, I find myself more and more drawn to the little ones—the toddlers, the five-year-olds, the children who come running without hesitation, their eyes bright and their arms wide open. They reach out with such warmth that it is impossible not to reach back. Their affection is effortless, their hugs unfiltered.


Perhaps it is this stage of my life—my own children have grown up, they no longer need the cuddles of childhood, and I find myself yearning for that simplicity again. When a little one clings to me, when their laughter rings in my ears, I feel as though I am given a gift I didn’t even know I was missing. Of course, their unpredictability can be a nuisance at times, but even in that, there is a raw honesty that only children carry.


In contrast, I often find the adult world exhausting. Our minds think too much. We compete, we compare, we measure ourselves against one another. Among women especially, there is too often the shadow of jealousy, vanity, and show. Men, in their own way, are different—they deal in business, in transactions, in results. Either way, it feels calculated.


Children are untouched by these layers. They don’t love you because of your title, your possessions, or the way you present yourself. They love because love is natural to them. They play without agenda. They embrace without hesitation. They teach us, silently, what we have lost in the name of growing up.


Maybe that is why I feel so compelled to spend time with them these days. Being around children is like taking a deep breath in a world clouded with noise. They remind me of the simpler, purer version of ourselves—the one we once were, and the one we often forget.


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