School just let out, and I did not know where my gloves were. My hands were freezing, nearing frozen. Whether lost or stolen, my hands were without them, and it was freezing outside. I was a fourth grader not accustomed to being outside in these temperatures. So in the middle of Bradwell Elementary School’s giant playground, I cried.
Out of nowhere, my mother arrived and immediately placed her arms around me. With her hands, she wiped my tears from my face. With her hands, she rubbed my shoulders to calm me. My mother then placed one then another glove on my hands. And as we walked home, I looked over at my mother smiling. It wasn’t until she asked for them later that I realized the gloves she placed on my hands, were from her hands.