The Hands of My Mother
I can remember it like it was yesterday. We were in the back seat of my grandpa’s car, on a trip I can’t remember. What I can remember though is the moment. It was the first time I can recall getting to sit by my mom in the back seat of a car and for some reason, I relished the moment. As I was sitting there next to her, I became enthralled with the backs of her hands. They were beautiful to me; weathered and veiny hands that read me to sleep and wrapped themselves around my sweet, soft, young face.
Her hands trimmed my bangs into crooked submission.
Her hands fried lumpia on hot California nights.
Her hands dug rich, Washington State soil, preparing it for sweet, crunchy home-grown carrots, pulled straight from the earth behind our freshly-painted country house.
Her hands held the familiar jingle of her silver-cuff bracelets with years of well-earned scratches from hard days worked.
They held the scent of crisply starched Navy uniforms, pressed to impress.
They held Halloween after Halloween of face paintings and hand-sewn designs worthy of costume awards.
They held carefully planned recipes sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar.
They held a life of sisterhood to three younger brothers.
They held stories of love at sea, her ink-drained pens filled with anticipated reunions.
They held warm coffee cups on southern porch swings, streaming rays of green leaf canopy sunshine through the sky.
They held the late night, sleep-deprived tears of a new mom.
They held the leather-bound book of God’s word, pages crinkling under late-night lamp light.
They held each other as whispers of love lifted up to heaven like hot air balloons of hope.
They wiped sorrow dripping down from broken promises.
They held mine, a reminder of the love she had for me the moment she knew I was even a glimmer of tiny possibility.
I admire my mom and those hands that have clutched a lifetime of love.
The hand is the cutting edge of the mind.” – Jacob Bronowski
Hands are a connection to the heart.
The picture above is my great grandmother’s hand holding my daughter’s hand. There is an age gap there of almost 100 years. Imagine the stories and lessons my great-grandmother could give my daughter? Hands hold way more importance than just being tools for basic needs.
In fact, every time I see hands, I think about the stories they hold.
Hands are the Hope Chests of Knowledge.” – Lettered Roots
The wrinkles and veins of your hands are proof of a valuable history of lessons that can be used to help others.
Thinking about hands inspired me to challenge myself to use them in positive ways, so I created a 10 day challenge. If you’re looking for a way to give back, do it with me!
The 10 Day Hope Chest Hands Challenge
Challenge #1 –
Write a kind note or send a card to someone you know, thanking them for something they have done recently. Send it snail mail!
Write a kind note to someone you don’t know and leave it in an unexpected place. You never know who needs some encouragement.
Paint a rock and write some encouraging words on it. Then, go to The Kindness Rocks Project, write the hashtag on your rock and see if your kindness is returned!
Spend a day complimenting others. Choose a day when you know you’ll be around the most people. Make sure your compliments are genuine.
Leave a note to your children or spouse, telling them why you’re thankful for them.
Bake something for someone. Cookies always cure. 🙂
Do something positive that’s out of your comfort zone.
Pick up trash wherever you are today. Make sure to bring a trash bag with you if you plan on picking up a lot!
Donate some items from your home that you no longer need.
Use social media for good! Find something on a friend’s Pinterest board to send them or just send a friend a thoughtful message letting them know you’re thinking about them.
Are you up for the challenge?
The best thing you can do when you’re feeling blue is to take your focus off of you.
Complete all 10 challenges, or just a few. The rest is up to you!
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