Start:
Hands shape the world and hands change the world. Two appendages, each with five digits and they can hold the whole world. My hands can (and do) tell stories - I use them to make the words when I can't hear what's going on around me, I wave them wildly when I'm excited and slowly and heavily when I'm not. I use them to sing.
My hands also bring the world. They bring the world to my son as I take him form place to place, as I gently carry him and gently care for him.
My hands show my day. Today they are dry and clean - evidence of an afternoon spent in the pool. Yesterday they were dusty and dirty - evidence of a morning spent skirting alpaca fleeces. They've been cut and blistered and burnt and roughened. They tell where I have been.
My hands also bring these words into being. Without my hands I could not type these words, I could not express myself here, in this format. My hands do that.
My hands. They are the part of me that so many people see. Hands are what I watch. They tell so many stories. Stories of where people have been and where people are going. Stories of wonder. Stories of sadness. Tiny hands, big hands.
Stop.
I love watching these little hands grow!
2 comments:
Oh, I love this! <3
Visiting from FMF --- Sarah Jo
indeed our hands can tell the story can't they? and watching them grow... that's just amazing. :)
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