Rough hands toiling in grime and heat,
Thin hands white with strain,
Young hands taking a hopeful wheel,
Gnarled hands bending in pain--
Asking our help to order His world,
God gave hands for love.
A mother brushing her daughter's hair,
A lover clasping one dear,
A father protecting a little child,
A brother waiting near--
Asking our help to comfort His world,
God gave hands for love.
Brushing fair colors into new life,
Smoothing soft clay from a jar,
Teasing bright strings into silver song,
Tracing the path of a star--
Asking our help to beauty His world,
God gave hands for love.
Hands stretched out to answer need,
Hands spread out for greeting,
Hands raised up to carry a load,
Hands reached out in meeting--
Asking our help to comfort His friends,
God gave hands for love.
Contented hands holding a treasured book,
Peaceful hands folded in prayer,
Silent hands still and unconscious in sleep,
Quiet hands resting from care--
Asking our help to cherish His gifts,
God gave hands for love.
Feeling the satin of roses and dew,
Touching the arm of a friend,
Receiving a gift from a trusting child,
Having a hand to lend--
Asking our help to cherish His gifts,
God gave hands for love.
Hands giving time to a lonely heart,
Hands offering wine and bread,
Hands wrapping shoulders in warmer shawls,
Hands closing a crime, unread--
Asking our help to care for His cares,
God gave hands for love.
by Dorothy
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This page is dedicated to Margaret Augustine,
whose hands cared for the 11 children she bore,
crocheted and embroidered countless linens,
drove tractor, pitched hay, milked cows, hoed,
designed and sewed dozens of items of clothing,
darned countless stockings, patched and made new,
gardened everything from potatoes to fragrant roses,
cooked the best fried fish, cinnamon rolls, coffee,
made handcrafted items before it was "the thing to do,"
and did so much more that her children could not count
them--even using all the fingers of all their hands.

Put the coffeepot on, Ma.
You know we'll all be coming home.
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I wish that my Mother
Could come back today
To sit back and smile that
Her kids found their way.
God knows that we vexed her
And caused her some grief;
But as we turned out,
She could breathe her relief.
We know that she wanted
The best for us all.
I'd just like to hug her.
I'd sure like to call.
Nowadays we do email;
She'd be saying "Oy Vay!"
Then she'd laugh and go try it!
But she had to go away.
She left 'way too young
And in too much pain,
But the garden she planted
Has become golden grain.
I think when I see her
We'll laugh and we'll cry--
Then we'll put on the coffee:
The rest will drop by.