I Took Her Hand -- Magic
James L. Holly, MD
In a society, which is preoccupied with intimacy and often associates it with “hopping in the sack,” I am frequently reminded of the power of a handshake, or of the holding of a hand.
In 1963, I read Jim Elliott’s Journal which was published by his wife, Elizabeth, after Jim’s death in Equator at the hands of the Auca Indians. Jim had gone to Equator to be a missionary. He and Elizabeth had had a relationship but had not married or even been engaged. Jim had prayed that Elizabeth would be called to missions in Equator and in his first year there discovered that she was on her way. He met her at the airport and thought to himself, “How will I greet her. I can’t kiss her, we are not engaged. I can’t hug her. I will just shake her hand.”
When Elizabeth disembarked from the plane, Jim approached her, reached out and shook her hand, saying, “It’s good to see you,” and to himself thought, “And, it was.” I have often said to young people who are courting, “If you can ever learn the power and the intimacy of a handshake, you will understand love.”
Yesterday, September 12, 2017, I watched parts of the movie Sleepless in Seattle. The story is that Sam, the main character’s wife had died. His son watching the grief of his father called a radio talk show conducted by a person named, “Doctor Marcia Fieldstone.” Doctor Marcia asked, “Sam,, tell me what was so special about your wife?
To which question, Sam Baldwin responded, “Well, how long is your program? Well, it was a million tiny little things that, when you added them all up, they meant we were supposed to be together... and I knew it. I knew it the very first time I touched her. It was like coming home... only to no home I'd ever known... I was just taking her hand to help her out of a car and I knew. It was like... magic.”
The touch. On December 7, 1964, while a senior in college, having just turned twenty-one, I had to attend a banquet for the Missions Committee of the Baptist Student Union at Northwestern State University. I did not have a “girl friend,” but I had a dear friend, who was possibly a “best friend.” (I did not know it at the time but her father Wirt Everette Bellue who had become my friend, had told Carolyn that some day I would wake up and realize with whom I was in love. When we were Juniors in college, Carolyn’s Aunt Star had visited her and reported the same thing.) I didn’t want to go to the banquet alone so I asked Carolyn if she would go with me. She agreed.
When we were walking (yes, none of us had cars and we walked every where) back to campus, it was very cold. Carolyn had a wonderful cashmire coat and I didn’t have a coat. She said, “Put your hand in my pocket and it’ll be warm.” I did and she put her hand in the same pocket and held my hand. It was magic.
In that moment, at that instance, I fell in love. Carolyn went back to her dormitory and exclaimed to her roommate, who eight months later was the Maid of Honor in our wedding, “I don’t want to fall in love with him.” It was too late; the holding of hands had sealed the deal. On February 7, 1965, I asked Carolyn to marry me and on August 7, 1965, we married.
The magic of a handshake or the holding of a hand is powerful. If you ever experience it, you will never forget it. The security of our marriage, now in its 53rd year, was not that of a vow or of a legal obligation, it was the magic of holding Carolyn’s hand, which today is more precousl than ever..
In my father’s last years, when we would take a drive, I would hold his hand. My mother objected and I told her, “As long as I have him, I will hug him, kiss him on the cheek and hold his hand.” After his death, my brother told me that he had never understood that but wishes now that he had done the same thing. The power of the holding of a hand.
Yesterday, our son’s second born daughter went to lunch with Carolyn and me. As we walked into the restaurant, I held Kate’s hand – precious, wonderful – it reminded me of the power of a handshake, now the power of the love of a grandfather which began with the magic of holding her grandmother’s hand.
Addendum: In 1964, I spent the summer in East Africa (Kenya and Tanganika). I had very little money and Carolyn's father sent me $20. I traveled back through the Middle East, spending the night in Cairo on my way. During that night all of my belongings were stolen including a Masai Spear which I was bringing home.
In Israel at the Garden Tomb which is reputedly the burial place of Jesus Christ, I bought a Mother-of-Pearl New Testabment for Carolyn. I enscribed it, "Dear Sis..." When I gave it to her she said that she would carry it in her wedding. She did. (she has that new testament today 54 years later.)
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