My Mother’s Hand

 

I have a little offer on my Facebook page for Mother’s Day and it seems the whole theme of mother’s and hands is following me. I came across this lovely little bit of writing by a young woman called Karisa.  I especially like the part where she talks about how her mother consideres her own hands ugly whereas Karisa recognises all the work those hands have done.  Sometimes when I cast hands and they see the result I hear “oh, my hands are so old looking”, I try to remind them (it’s usually the Mammy!) of all the work those hands have done and all the care and nurture they have provided.  The full piece is here

“I think you can tell a lot about a person by just looking at their hands and what my mother’s hands tell me is of a life of hard work. They are hands that are nearly always submerged in dishwater; hands that have been burned by brief moments of carelessness in the kitchen. But never once have those hands wavered; they have remained as steady as a surgeon’s. And where she looks at them and sees the wrinkles and calluses she finds so ugly, I see something much different: I see hands that have successfully raised three children to adulthood.

Yes, if I believe in anything, I believe in the strength of my mother’s hands. I can only hope that by holding them I can absorb some of that strength into my own.”