Last week we had two visitors…our niece Gracie and a puppy named Gracie. These two little girls delighted us.

Gracie the puppy (7 months old) came first. While resting by my ankle on the ottoman, she suddenly sat up and looked at my sore and swollen joint. She sniffed the incision on the inside of the ankle and gave it a tender lick. She cocked her head as if the ankle had whispered something in her ear and she jumped over it to the other incision which she also licked. Then she curled up for a nap – her tender mission complete.

I cried.

A day later, Gracie the girl came. She’s 5 and a half. On Friday the weather here changed and the ankle ballooned. When I put the foot up, she knelt down beside it, closed her eyes, and pressed her lips to the puffiest part – just over the large incision.

“It should feel better now, Auntie,” she said before returning to play with the puppy…her gentle mission accomplished.

I cried.

The incisions have little to no sensation in them. I didn’t feel these precious kisses. I saw them.

I have to admit – both the little girl and the puppy kisses amazed me. An ankle is so close to the foot and foot kissing is not something I’m accustomed to. It’s a little like having someone wash my feet (which Jon did a lot of in the months I couldn’t bathe)…it’s humbling.  It’s personal. And somehow it’s sort of…ummmm…shameful. Although I knew my foot was clean…feet can seem perpetually dirty somehow. It’s not like they were made for this kind of affection. (although I love to kiss baby feet)

I didn’t see the kisses coming and there was no way I could hold back the tears. I still can’t.

Yes…puppies kiss toes and tickle feet but this was different. This puppy only kissed my incisions and she wasn’t playing. She recognized an injury. Gracie the girl recognized my pain. Both of them wanted me to be better.

I realize Gracie the girl didn’t see herself kissing my ankle which is so near to my foot. She saw only an opportunity to kiss away my hurt.

These Gracie kisses were so pure I felt undeserving yet I couldn’t have pulled my ankle away for anything. It seemed anchored to the spot for those split-second tender mercies. I wanted to yelp out a “no” but could only manage a silent “oh.”

Both times my soul was stretched. Love washed away shame…and even though my ankle still hurt… I felt better.

Kisses can do that.