Hands

I was talking with my daughter about the virtues of taking care of oneself.  Not that I’m a prime example, but as parents tend to do, I still want her to learn about life even if I’m not all there yet.  We were talking about body lotion, of all things, when she mentioned that my hands were soft.  I told her that several people thought my hands were soft even though I have dry skin and she looked at me incredulously – like, really mom?  So at that very moment I conducted an experiment and sent a text to the women in my family – sisters, nieces, etc.  My survey was a quick ‘please tell me one word to describe my hands.’  I did get ‘soft’ and ‘young,’ but the first word that came back was ‘helping.’  I read it; and honestly, was just very happy to see that someone thought I had helping hands.  So often we use our hands for our work and for our benefit.  We take care of our loved ones and do our chores.  We even take care of our own hands with good creams and manicures; but I’m sad to say that we don’t always use our hands to help others.  Or if we do, it’s minimal. 

I'm thankful for my hands. I do everything with my hands. I can’t think of one thing I did today without my hands.  I can’t think of even getting out of bed without my hands.  So often we focus on our needs and wants that we bypass the most incredible of blessings and what we already have.  The simplest of things in our lives, like our hands.  I never think of my hands, but what would I do without them?  I cannot imagine a life so impaired.  But more importantly, what am I doing with them right now?  If I take the time to teach my daughter about taking care of the skin on her hands, what am I teaching her about doing for others with her hands?  For the first time in years I took her to help make sandwiches for the homeless.  I have been doing this for a while, but only on weekends when she’s at her dad’s.  So, we made sandwiches while she asked a lot of questions.  Where do the homeless live?  That close to the school?  What’s happened to make them live in the street?  How do we get the food to them?  Do we talk to them or just give them the lunch sacks?  It really made me think about the not-so-great job I’ve been doing when teaching her life's most important lessons.  That it isn’t about her.  That our purpose isn’t me, myself and I.  That there’s no real joy in living for oneself and one’s gratifications.  So, I’m renewing my resolve to use my hands to help others; but also to model it for my children.  Thankful for my hands.