Hands - by Bonnae McTavish

I admire people's hands. I take note of them as they seem to tell a story about the person. I look at the hands of newborns and see the potential there. I look at the hands of old people and see the stories of their lives. I really like old hands with age spots, wrinkles and rings that are now loose. I welcomed the hand of my youngest grand daughter Heather, when she reaches for my index finger when we go for walks. I look at my hands and remember cradling all three grandchildren moments after they were born. My hands have dug deep in my garden, made pots on a potter's wheel, high fived, clapped in enthusiasm, put a ring on my husband's hand, consoled my children. My mother's hands hugged me, spanked me, knit my sweaters, canned fruit, consoled me, cooked scrumtuous meals, held my hand and uplifted me when she was very ill, helped pull the sleigh that took us blocks to Sunday School when we were little. Then I think of my grandmother's hands. She lived in Ontario so we only saw her every few years. I adored her and felt cherished by her. In her 70's she married a Baptist minister and on one visit when I was about 12, she and I picked flowers from her garden and took them next door to the church for the next day's service. When we were done, she said, "Let's sit and pray." So we did. She enclosed my hands in hers. I do not remember what she said, but I do remember our hands together - a closeness with her that I remember still - hands of a lady who had nursed others as she raised her children as a young widow, hands that would be often folded in prayer, hands that would carress our heads, hands that expressed her love for us all. Look at your hands. Hands that turn pages in books, holds a pen like Dorothy when she writes her stories, uses a spade like Marlene when she works with her roses, types on computer keyboards, or makes copious notes like Brenda. Think of the stories that your hands could tell, and those of generations past and those that are young. They tell us a great deal of our lives.