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My Mom's hands - a thousand stories

I have always watched people's hands. Hands tell a story of life. I first noticed hands when I worked in the hospital as a naive 19 year old Nurse Aide. I looked at hands as if I was looking at the pages of a book. The pages tell stories of life experiences. Some hands are hard and the wrinkles show life long toiling with the dirt. And there are some hands with soft smooth texture and manicured nails which can speak of a life spent in conversations and service to people. Other hands show wear on the middle finger with the indentions of writing and still others have not lived long enough to show their toil and story. Textured hands, smooth hands, dry hands, soiled hands, worn hands, playful hands, and hands with scars, can show the stories of our life.

Over the years I have watched my Mother's hands. How she spent a life time of cooking, preparing, and blessing her family. I have felt those hands hold my hand to cross a street and rub my hair to go to sleep. I have seen those hands sew clothes for me as a child, stich up heirloom quilts, and crochet a blanket or potholder or two. Those hands have hugged her children and held her husband and comforted him as he went home to heaven. I have seen those hands in prayer and raised to sing praises before her Lord and savior. But, most of all, I have known those hands to hold a Bible and study it so she could read aloud to me and lost souls telling about the plans the Lord has for each of us.

Some say a picture is worth a thousand words. The transition from Wife, Mom, to Widow might be seen in her aged hands today. Or you might see the deeper journey from independence to dependence in these pictures as she suffers under the weight of Alzheimer's. Yet I am not sure a picture of my Mother's hands can tell of all the work of the Lord she has done in my life and in the lives of others. It would be easy to see that through the legacy she is leaving behind through her granddaughters. You might see that and if you were to hear her talk, she would talk of the nailed scarred hands of her savior who has redeemed her and saved her. I love you Momma, and these pictures tell a story of your life through your hands, your daughters hands and through the legacy of your granddaughters. Thank you for loving so much to give us Jesus. "I have no greater joy than to know that my children walk with the Lord", Esther Wallace.








Hands, a book with a thousand stories.

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