| GRANDMA'S HANDS |
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GRANDMA'S HANDS
~~ Author Unknown ~~
Grandma,
some ninety plus years, sat feebly on the patio bench. She didn't move,
just sat with her head down staring at her hands. When I sat down
beside her she didn't acknowledge my presence and the longer I sat I
wondered if she was OK. Finally, not really wanting to disturb her but
wanting to check on her at the same time, I asked her if she was OK.
She raised her head and looked at me and smiled. "Yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking," she said in a clear strong voice.
"I
didn't mean to disturb you, Grandma, but you were just sitting here
staring at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were OK," I
explained to her
"Have
you ever looked at your hands?" she asked. "I mean really looked at
your hands?" I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them. I turned
them over, palms up and then palms down. No, I guess I had never really
looked at my hands as I tried to figure out the point she was making.
Grandma smiled and related the following story:
"Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have, how they have served you well throughout your years.
"These
hands, though wrinkled, shriveled and weak have been the tools I have
used all my life to reach out and grab and embrace life. They braced
and caught my fall when as a toddler I crashed upon the floor. They put
food in my mouth and clothes on my back. As a child my mother taught me
to fold them in prayer. They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots.
"They held my husband and wiped my tears when he went off to war. They have been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent!
"They
were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn son. Decorated
with my wedding band they showed the world that I was married and loved
someone special
"They
wrote my letters to him and trembled and shook when I buried my parents
and spouse. They have held my children and grandchildren, consoled
neighbors, and shook in fists of anger when I didn't understand. They
have covered my face, combed my hair, and washed and cleansed the rest
of my body.
"They
have been sticky and wet, bent and broken, dried and raw. And to this
day when not much of anything else of me works real well these hands
hold me up, lay me down, and again continue to fold in prayer.
"These
hands are the mark of where I've been and the ruggedness of life. But
more importantly it will be these hands that God will reach out and
take when he leads me home. And with my hands He will lift me to His
side and there I will use these hands to touch the face of Christ."
I
will never look at my hands the same again. God reached out and took my
Grandma's hands and led her home. When my hands are hurt or sore or
when I stroke the face of my children and husband I think of Grandma. I
know she has been held by the hands of God. And I, too, want to touch
the face of God and feel His hands upon my face.
When
you receive this, say a prayer for the person who sent it to you and
watch God's answer to prayer work in your life. Let's continue praying
for one another. Passing this on to anyone you consider a friend will bless you both. |
| Posted: 9/20/2008 at 10:41 | Read 126 times | 1 comment | Leave Comment |
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