Any person reading the above sentence, knowing that it comes from A Christmas Carol, could choose from a whole bevy of characters to whom this kind hand may belong. Bob Cratchit. Tiny Tim. Any of the Cratchits, really. Fred the nephew. Fezziwig. Belle, Scrooge's former fiance. Fan, Scrooge's sister. Not a single person would guess the actual owner of that hand.
That hand belongs to...(insert drum roll here)
The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come. Yes, the phantom whom Dickens describes as being silent and grave. When this Ghost first appears, Dickens writes, "...in the very air through which the Spirit moved it seemed to scatter gloom and mystery." There isn't a whole lot of kindness to be found in this manifestation at the beginning of Stave Four. But, by the end of the chapter, the Ghost's hand, as Scrooge pleads for his life and future, begins to shake and tremble. Kindness breaks through the gloom and mystery.
Today, things change for me. I officially enter my summer schedule. No more leaving one job to go teach. No lessons to plan. No quizzes to grade. Just the medical office. All day. I'm looking forward to the change. Yes, I just used the phrase "looking forward to" and "change" in the same sentence. I'm not off my meds, and I haven't snapped under the pressure of finals week. This is a change I expect every year. I'm ready for it.
That is why the hand of the future, for me, is "kind" this morning. It's pointed to May and June. To summer and heat. To swimming and 90-degree afternoons. To long dusks and trips to the local ice cream parlor. It's a future I know. It's a future I'm comfortable with, for the most part.
Saint Marty hasn't had a change of heart about change. He still hates it. Saint Marty's just looking forward to a little sunshine.
|I wanna hold your hand...|