Ritual, Rewritten by Tiny Arms🥰
Every morning holds a small sacred rhythm for me😇 I have my morning ritual — a few quiet practices that anchor me before the day begins. It is my time of stillness, my gentle discipline, my way of aligning myself before stepping into responsibilities. But some mornings, before I can complete it, I hear him. “Amma… Amma…” And just like that, my ritual pauses. Yet strangely, I do not feel annoyed. Even though it is my cherished practice, even though I wake up with the intention of completing it fully, when he calls me, there is no frustration in my heart. No “why now?” No irritation. Only a soft surrender🤗 I walk to him and lie beside him, telling him I had just stepped away for a moment. Before I can settle fully, his tiny arms circle around me — tight, protective, as if he is afraid, I might disappear again. In that embrace, I am no longer a woman with responsibilities waiting in the kitchen. I am simply his Amma. In that embrace, my ritual does not feel interrupted. ...