In the tapestry of my child’s life, a thread of challenge weaves,
Deformed hands, a burden they silently grieve,
Yet in their eyes, a resilience shines bright,
A spirit undaunted by the struggle, a determined light.

Throughout the years, as they faced the world’s gaze,
Their deformed hands a puzzle, a maze,
I turned to prayer, a beacon in the night,
Seeking God’s grace, His guiding light.

Every day, my prayers rise like incense to the sky,
Beseeching for relief, for a tender reply,
For my child to find solace, to know joy,
To find their place in a world that may try to decoy.

In the silence of my heart, in the depths of my soul,
I lay bare my hopes, my fears, my role,
To be a pillar of strength, a shelter in the storm,
To guide them through life, their spirit to transform.

I see them persevere, with courage in their stride,
Their deformed hands a mark they cannot hide,
But in their touch, in their embrace so warm,
I feel a love that weathers any storm.

I pray for their suffering to be eased,
For their heart to be appeased,
For happiness to find its way,
And for God’s presence to light their day.

In the journey they walk, I stand by their side,
In every trial, in every stride,
For in their struggle, I see a strength so rare,
A resilience that shines, a spirit that dares.

So I continue to pray, with faith unswayed,
For my child to find peace in the path they’ve made,
To know that in their deformed hands lies a grace,
A lesson in love, a journey to embrace.