Holding hands as done by Robert Sexton

Many years ago I came across this beautiful writing (see below) by Bob Perks and felt you might enjoy the sharing.  I recall it brought me to tears in the reading and added a whole new dimension to my own practice of holding hands with one I loved…  I hope it touches your own heart in the same way.

PS: And if you want to see more inspirational stories like this, you can subscribe to Bob’s e-mail distribution list at http://www.IWishYouEnough.com

– Jim

(PS: When it comes to expressing relationships, one of my favorite artists is Robert Sexton.  In his beautiful artwork shown here, he captures this “holding hands” in his poem, “The Vow”:
“And we shall walk
through all our days
with love remembered
and love renewed.”

To see more of his work and options for owning your own wall hangings of this and other beautiful pieces of his artwork, go to:
Robert Sexton, an American Romantic (<– click here)


(also available in a video reading format at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t3QoiP4x5NU)

Some say it’s old fashioned.
Some say it’s a necessity in a world of insecurity.  Other’s just simply call it romantic.

Holding hands.

I love to see people holding hands.  It’s such a powerful statement to
the world.  One that screams, “She’s mine!” or “He’s with me!”

I can’t say that I see it much any more.  I pride myself in noticing
the romance in life. 

I get chills when I see an unusual marriage proposal played out on television.  But these outward signs of love seem to be disappearing.
I remember driving down the road and having my girl sitting next to me
in the car.  I mean right next to me.  I saw a couple that close yesterday and thought, “Oh, my God she’s not wearing a seat belt?”  I was mad at the
guy for permitting this.
But I love to see older couples walking together holding hands.  I met
one such couple yesterday on my return trip home.  Yes, I stopped at a
mall.  It seems my life is spent there.  When I travel, I visit the local
mall just to spend some time, get a little exercise and of course watch and
meet people.
This day I met Art and Lilly.

I couldn’t help but watch them as they strolled past the stores,
pausing every once in a while to giggle and kiss like two young love birds.
And they were holding hands.  In fact, swinging their arms like two love
sick teens.  I absolutely loved it.  I had to say hello.
“I must tell you how refreshing it is to see the two of you so much in
love,” I said.
“Oh, you can tell?” Art laughed.
“How long have you been together?” I asked.
“Forever!” Lilly said.  “I believe we were meant to be from the
beginning of time.  It was God’s plan.”
“I noticed you holding hands.  I don’t see that too much any more.
It’s so romantic,” I said.
“Well, we just don’t hold hands. We connect our spirits.  There’s a real science to it, you know,” said Art.
“I never realized that,” I said.
“Well, there are different types of hand holding,” he said and went on to explain.
“One is like this, where you just wrap your hands around each other’s.
Then there’s the hand hold and arm hug, where you bring her close and pull
your hands in front of you like this,” he said as he demonstrated.
“Of course there’s the hold where you intertwine your fingers,”  Lilly
said and then giggled like a kid.
“Then the real romantic one is when you reach for her hand and just
before your grasp it, you gently pull it up and kiss it.  Just like in the
old days,” said Art.
“And the swing?  I saw you swinging your arms as you walked along,” I said.
“Oh, that’s just fun, goofy stuff.  That’s when we are just being
silly.  If we could still skip, we would,” said Lilly.  Then they actually
tried.  They stopped after one or two and just laughed.  They were both so
very happy.
“You know I’m going to write about this.  I send out stories to
friends I’ve never met on the Internet,” I told them.
“Oh, the Internet,” sighed Art.  “That’s the problem, you know.
People spend much too much time at home in front of computer games, videos,
and the Internet.  You can’t hold hands with a computer between you,” he
“No, but I can touch hearts.  I will when I share your story with
them,” I said.
“Do me a favor,” Lilly asked, smiling as she did.
“Yes, my young love birds,” I said.  They laughed.
“Call your story, The Art of Holding Hands!  He’s the best,” she said.
They kissed, and then strolled away hand in hand.  And one more time, they
turned to me and did a little skip as they started swinging their arms.
And yes, they laughed.
They truly knew, “The Art of Holding Hands”