Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Mother (as in maternal parent) (04/24/08)
- TITLE: Mothers Hands
By Carolyn Cyphers
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ADD TO MY FAVORITES
Clasping me to her breast, I snuggled ever closer,
Completely safe in her warm embrace.
Reaching out for me as I toddled ever forward
Tucking my hand into herās with pride and grace.
Clapping hands to āThree men in a Tub, rub-a-dub-dub,ā
Hands that pulled me close for a rollicking hug, a giggle, a sigh,
Intimacy with mommy, when I was five.
Splaying fingers through the dirt, ridding weeds,
Training mine to sow some seeds.
Peeling apples in one long peel, peeling ātatersā and ātomatersā,
Always peeling something that would eventually delight.
Feeding laundry through the rollers of the back porch washer,
Pinning sheets and towels on the line to dry.
Folding heaps and heaps of linens, ironing, starching, every day
Taking care of business was grueling work, with very little play.
Pinning patterns to the fabric, pinning darts here, just right,
Pinning hems and laces, designing clothes for me at night.
Traipsing fingers along the keys, I loved to hear Godās melodies, What a Friend We Have in Jesus, Trust and Obey: so many hymns etched on my heart through the tunes that sheād play.
Loving touches only she could minister; a cool hand on my fevered brow,
a silent tummy rub when I felt ill.
An understanding pat upon on a troubled shoulder,
A gentle hug when feelings smoldered.
Making late night goodies for dad and for me,
Sometimes orange and cinnamon buns straight from an oven warm
Sometimes it was popcorn all buttery and fresh,
But always it was homemade things sheād learned growing up on the farm.
Loving hands that tucked me into bed each night,
Then folded into prayer, teaching me to trust in God
To give Him all my cares.
Holding her Bible in deep, reverent study,
Demonstrating her need to know more of Her Lord.
Leading her study group on Sunday morning
Pointing out truths, a divine smorgasboard.
All of these things done by the power within her
Sharing Godās love deep within her Heād poured.
When I was growing older weād place our hands before us.
Iād marvel how wondrously they were alike: a fine treasure,
I declared, āI have my motherās handsā with pride and pleasure.
That thought always spurred me on to demonstrate the memory
Through the service of my own hands -the bliss her hands had always wrought.
Whenever through the hard tasks I trod to make a house a home,
My hands have played the integral part- shadows of motherās hands Iāve known.
Now wheneāer we place our hands before us I almost shudder at what I see. Gnarly, withered, and arthritic, fingers worn are they,
yet they reach out for mine in loveās pure grasp display.
I am just so glad that I still can cling to those hands and with our heads bent close, recount the tales of old, of days gone by, memories cherished in the heart!.
Proverbs 31:31 Give her the reward she has earned,
and let her works bring her praise at the city gate.
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