Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Gentle

To look at him, with his big muscles, you would hardly think that the best word to describe him was gentle. But he was. His hands may be large, but he was careful when cupping them around things. It was almost like he was so afraid to accidentally hurt something that he went overboard with his gentleness.

Which is not to say that he never used those muscles. He was protective and willing to stop someone from hurting people, especially those he loved. And he used them to move furniture around as favors to family, friends, neighbors, and occasionally little old ladies.

It was always more obvious how gentle he was when he cupped his hands around babies, to carefully lift them up and coo at them. He almost looked like a big kid, his grin so big. He would carefully tuck them into the crook of his elbow and gently, tenderly, stroke their faces as if the touch would help him learn their delicate features.

And everyone who ever saw him cradling a baby had the same statement; "I never expected him to be so gentle."

She always just smiled at them and said, "No one ever does."

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I was reading something about someone being unexpectedly gentle (in an entirely different way, oddly enough) and inspiration struck.
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