Hold My Hand

“Why did Santa get hit by a car, mama?”

He was thinking of the movie “Santa Paws.” He was referring to the scene when Santa is in downtown Manhattan, in unfamiliar territory, and facing the fear of  a busy intersection. Of course Santa is used to flying his sleigh in the sky, alongside his reindeer pack. He’s not used to being on his lonesome.

“He didn’t have anyone to hold his hand, James. And sometimes, we just need a hand to hold to help us get from one side of the street to the other.”

“Mrs. Claus was at the North Pole, as Santa lost his reindeer pack and  his sleigh was nowhere to be found. He didn’t have anyone to help him cross the street. He lost his footing and got hit by a car while crossing the street.”

Someone got out their car and helped get Santa to a nearby hospital. Santa would survive.

James nodded.

I went on to explain why it is so important to hold a trusted adult’s hand while crossing the street.

Sometimes, I wish I’d spend more time holding hands. Oh the comfort of warm hands, when I don’t feel so all alone, the feeling of being heard, feeling seen, feeling appreciated, the feeling of adequacy, the feeling of relevancy, the feeling of being with another person, the comfort of the company of others.

There are times I’m more comfortable in my own skin, in total isolation, in being alone, but I do need others. I’m hard-wired for connection. I’m making my way out of my shell of introvert. It’s comfortable there, but it’s lonely and can be oh so isolating all cooped up in the comfort of my home.

How often do we go it alone?

How often do we try to do things without asking for help?

How often do we not want to bother another, so we avoid asking and go it alone only to be hurt in the end?

How often do we determine we can do it alone only to realize it would have been easier to have gotten a little help along the way?

Why are we afraid to ask for help?

When faced with something scary, it is much easier to face fears, head on, when we share them, aloud, with someone else. When another can sit with us in our fear, suddenly our fears  don’t seem so big. Being transparent with others, allows people to be open, too, and gives others permission, courage,  and bravery to stand in their truth,  even when uncomfortable. When we put sound to our fears, they are a little more bearable.

It’s much easier to hold the hand of a friend and cross the street, than it is to bear it all by our lonesome. When you go down a tall slide, at a play place, it’s a million and one times easier to watch your sister or brother go down, first, than if you’re braving it all alone. When at a scary doctor’s appointment to hear a long-awaited test result, it’s a million and one times easier to have someone with than if you’re all alone.

We’re simply walking each other across the street. It’s baby steps to help each other get through the uncertainty and riskiness of life.

It’s simple. It takes one single phone call, one quick home visit, one focused conversation, or one simple act of kindness, to walk a loved one across the street, just to be sure one gets to the other side, to assist them through the unpredictability life throws our way, to be certain they make it across the big bumps, slight slips, deep slides, jagged ups, and harsh downs of life.

I encourage you to take the hand of another in your life, and walk them from one side of the street to the other, to look for ways to help one cross the street just a little bit easier. Take a step forward to help one get to where they need to go, for we are all just trying to get from one side of the street to the other.

Let’s take the time to walk each other across the street.