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My Moma's Hands
What do you remember most about your mother or mom? Was it her smile? Oh yes, I remember mom’s smile. Was it her eyes? Oh yes, I remember her eyes. How about her hair? Yes, I remember her hair. Could it be her cooking? Yes, yes I remember her good cooking. What is the most significant feature or memory that you have of your mom? Well I can answer that quite distinctly. Of all my mom’s features that I remember the most would be - her hands. Those precious hands.
she wiped my tears the times it hurt so bad
Moma’s hands were the first to hold me close with love and tenderness. I don’t remember that feel, but I know it’s so. Her hands showed me how to feed myself, and how to dress, how to comb my hair. How to brush my teeth. With those hands she picked me up when I fell down, and she wiped my tears the times it hurt so bad. So soft were those hands yet so strong from heavy work at home. Raising four kids, cooking and cleaning. Gardening and canning, also helping while we studied and playing ball when we needed a first baseman. Dad worked nights so he had to sleep when he could, sometimes in the mornings, sometimes in the evenings, often- not at all. Times were hard much of the time as we kids grew. More than once I noticed that mom would leave a spoon full of gravy for us kids rather than help herself to it.
She even had a certain way to hang the clothes
She washed our clothes in an old wringer washer and once got her hand hung in the wringer. After the wash and rinse she would gather up the laundry basket and head out back to hang our clothes on the line. Some times she would let me carry the clothe pin basket and she would stuff her apron pockets full. She always wiped the line down first not wanting the washed clothes to get dirty before we had a chance to wear them. She even had a certain place to hang the clothes though I didn’t know why. She was particular about that, not placing any of our under garments on the outside in full view of the neighbors or anyone passing by.
Did your mom let you help when you were growing up?
she instilled a need to read God’s Word daily
My mom got arthritis pretty bad in those beautiful hands, but she didn’t let that stop her from sewing. She prided her self on making clothes for her kids and later her grandchildren. She even taught me to sew and crochet as a child. She taught me how to make cornbread and I still make it by hand for my family. We would recite Bible verses that I remember today and instilled a need to read God’s Word daily. Even after I left home (at 24, to join the Air Force) she would quiz me on those Bible passages when we talked on the telephone, just to sharpen my memory.
She also taught me to pray and said I needed to pray every chance I got. As a teenager I started doing some things I knew I shouldn’t and one night I tried to sneak in the house without being noticed. Guess where I found my mom, on her knees, with her head bowed and those precious hands clasped, praying for God to protect me. I never quite got over that, watching her pray has made a big impact on my life.
...those precious hands.
Her hands always greeted me when I arrived and her finger-tips were the last touch I felt as I left. Before she died in 1999 at almost 92 years of age, I remember her trying to raise her hands to my face one more time, and I know that now she awaits beside my Jesus to welcome me home with those precious hands.
© 2010 SamSonS