... so I won't be scared

We were making our way down the stairs at my grandson's day care center for the annual Halloween party when he paused and said, "Hold my hand so I won't be scared."

I gladly took his hand, but I couldn't help wondering what it was he thought might frighten him. He'd had a few run-ins with a bigger boy in his room. Maybe that was it. And there had been lots of talk of ghosts and goblins in the run-up to Halloween. Perhaps too much talk.

Whatever the cause, slipping his small hand into mine was apparently the solution: When we reached the bottom step he raced ahead of me.

I know the day will come when I'll reach for his hand and he'll pull away, informing me that he's too big to need his grandmother holding on to him. Experience tells me that day will come all too soon.

But not yet. Not while there are bigger boys and spooky spirits to be vanquished. Not while a little boy still believes in the power of a loving touch.