My Mother’s Hands

My mother is a very loving woman. She uses her hands to show that love to God and the world. My mother has a strong love for God, her family and serving others. Many of my memories of my mother are of her baking banana bread for many families in the neighborhood and making dinner for someone who is ill, injured, moving into the neighborhood, moving out of the neighborhood, just had a baby or sometimes for no reason at all. I have many memories of my mother holding a book and pointing out the words as she helped kids at my school learn to read. My mom was always willing to hold pieces of my science projects as I pieced them together.

Some of my not-so-favorite memories of my mother’s hands are when she taught me how to iron, to clean the bathroom, to make my bed and to wash the dishes.

My mother is that person who uses her hands mostly in the service of others. My sister has trouble keeping her house clean, so my mom is always offering to help. My mother even cleans my house when she comes to visit. When my ex-husband and I bought our house, my mom spent one entire day on er hands and knees scrubbing the grout in the entryway and the floors in the kitchen. I was so amazed when I got home from work to see the work my mother had done for me, even though I had told her not to.

The thing my mom likes to do best for herself is to garden. Every Saturday morning you will find her kneeling in the dirt with her hands caked in mud as she digs through the dirt to make her garden beautiful.

I love my mother and my favorite thing about her hands is that they are always loving. Every time she hugs me she runs her hands through my hair and she squeezes my shoulders.

My mother’s hands will always be symbols of love and a standard of service for anyone who has had the honor and privilege of knowing and of being served by her hands.