
A Fingernail Moon Between the Lines
"Even the smallest sliver of light holds the promise of wholeness." – Mary Coughlin
A Fingernail Moon Between the Lines
Last evening, as I stepped outside, my eyes caught a thin crescent moon—what I’ve always called a fingernail moon—nestled perfectly between the lines of my clothesline. It was one of those fleeting moments that stops you in your tracks.
The scene was simple: a quiet evening sky, two lines stretching across my view, and a delicate sliver of moon holding its own kind of magic. But in that stillness, I couldn’t help but see echoes of the work I hold so dear—Trauma-Informed Developmental Care and the B.U.F.F.E.R. framework.
The moon reminded me that belonging is constant. No matter its phase, the moon belongs to the night sky. Just as every baby, every family, and every clinician belongs in a circle of care—even when we feel like we’re only showing a small sliver of ourselves.
It spoke to understanding—the wisdom that life, healing, and growth all happen in cycles. Just as the moon waxes and wanes, our journeys ebb and flow.
It whispered of forgiveness—the gentle truth that we don’t have to be “full” to shine. Even a small light can illuminate the darkness.
The lines themselves made me think of frameworks—the structures that hold us steady without confining us. TIDC and B.U.F.F.E.R. are like those lines: supportive, guiding, but leaving room for beauty and freedom to emerge.
The quiet of the evening felt like equanimity—a reminder to stay steady and present, regardless of whether the moment feels bright or dim.
And finally, just pausing to notice this tiny moment was, in itself, respect—honoring the fleeting, the quiet, the small wonders that so often carry the deepest meaning.
This fingernail moon, held between two simple lines, reminded me that light persists even in its smallest measure—and that structure and freedom can coexist to create something quietly breathtaking.
Maybe tonight you’ll look up, too. Maybe you’ll find your own small sliver of light to remind you that healing, hope, and connection are always present—sometimes just waiting to be noticed.
Under the same moon,
Mary
P.S. If this reflection speaks to you—if you feel called to be a steady light for babies, families, and colleagues even in the smallest of ways—I’d love for you to explore the Trauma-Informed Professional (TIP) 2.0 Certificate Program. It’s where science, soul, and skill meet to create ripples of healing that last a lifetime.
Learn more about TIP 2.0 here