A Beautiful Story..grandma's Hands..i Thought I'd Share It..

Lounge By sweetcravings Updated 25 Oct 2008 , 2:22am by mkolmar

sweetcravings Posted 24 Oct 2008 , 2:47pm
post #1 of 6

I was visiting my grandma yesterday at the nrsg home and at the door they always have newsletters with the happening of the nrsg home and other random stuff. I was reading it this morning and read the most beautiful poem and thought i'd share it with you all. Perhaps some have seen it as i found the same poem online. I hope you like it as much as i did. Makes you stop and think. Have a great day.

Grandma's Hands

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 this 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 of 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 dried the tears of my children and caressed the love of my life. They wiped my tears when my husband went off to war. They have been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent. They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold our newborn daughter.

Decorated with my wedding band they showed the world that I was married and loved someone special. They wrote the letters home and trembled and shook when I buried my parents and spouse. They have held children, 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 my 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. But I remember 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 thank grandma. I know she has been stroked and caressed and held by the hands of God. I, too, want to touch the face of God and feel His hands upon my face.



Author unknown, added to this Web site March 29, 2006

5 replies
ShopGrl1128 Posted 24 Oct 2008 , 4:06pm
post #2 of 6

Beautiful and touching.

Thanks for posting.

banba Posted 24 Oct 2008 , 7:38pm
post #3 of 6

Okay that made me cry icon_cry.gif very very touching.

My grandfather worked with his hands all his life.

I caught him one day doing the very same thing and asked "what ya doin?"

He just replied "isn't it terrible how now they (his hands) fail me , I made my living with them and thank God my mind is still intact but the ole hands just don't work so good anymore"

He was very dear to me and it was one of our little moments and a precious memory.

sweetcravings Posted 24 Oct 2008 , 9:40pm
post #4 of 6
Quote:
Originally Posted by banba

Okay that made me cry icon_cry.gif very very touching.

My grandfather worked with his hands all his life.

I caught him one day doing the very same thing and asked "what ya doin?"

He just replied "isn't it terrible how now they (his hands) fail me , I made my living with them and thank God my mind is still intact but the ole hands just don't work so good anymore"

He was very dear to me and it was one of our little moments and a precious memory.




Such a lovely story..thanks for sharing it. I'm glad i'm not the only person who cried when reading this poem. I just thought it was sooo wonderfully written i had to share it. It really made me stop for a moment and think. I thought of my dad, who's hands looked sooo weak towards the end of his life yet had worked sooo hard with them his whole life to give us everything he never had...Ok i'll stop now..i'm crying again..So touching.

MichelleM77 Posted 24 Oct 2008 , 10:36pm
post #5 of 6

I just had to read this because the title of the post struck me. One of the pictures in my wedding album that I love the most is a photo of my gram's hands. One of the photographers leaned over her shoulder while she was sitting in the church pew reading the church program before the ceremony. I can see those wrinkled, bony, and spotted hands and know exactly who it is! We were married in August and she died that winter.

There is also a picture of when my husband met me at the alter and in between us in the background is his grandfather who died not long after our wedding too. We cherish those pictures! Dang, we had a great photographer!

mkolmar Posted 25 Oct 2008 , 2:22am
post #6 of 6

I miss my grandma icon_cry.gif
This was a beautiful poem to share.

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