Funny thing with me, I always notice peoples hands. When I was a child I always sat next to my Aunt Ora in church. I would hold her hand and study it. I was fascinated by the transparency of her skin and the blue of her veins shining through it. Her hands told a story. The story of a childhood spent on a farm in rural Georgia. Years of adulthood spent as an expert seamstress. Later in her life, those hands would sew my wedding dress and later still, baby dresses for my daughters.
Now, I hold my Mother's hands. Her hands gently guided me across many streets and scolded me in my youth. The hands that worked six days a week at the Dry Cleaners for seventeen years, to support my brother and i. Now I see her years as I look at her hands, the love and sacrifice showing there.
I wonder what my own children think when they look at my hands. My youth fading and years beginning to show. What memories will these hands evoke in their mind ?
We are Women who create memories with our hands, our tools of love. No matter what you are doing, be it cooking, cleaning, gardening, bringing in the income for your family, or all of the above. You are creating a legacy with your gifts of love. The legacy of Love you leave with your hands. Your hands of love.