Guest guest Posted March 9, 2008 Report Share Posted March 9, 2008 GRANDMA'S HANDS Grandma, some 90 plus years, sat feebly on the patio bench. She didn't move, just sat with her head down staring at her hands. When I sat down beside her she didn't acknowledge my presence; and the longer I sat; I wondered if she was OK. Finally, not really wanting to disturb her but wanting to check on her at the same time, I asked her if she was OK. She raised her head and looked at me and smiled. 'Yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking,' she said in a clear voice strong. 'I didn't mean to disturb you, grandma, but you were just sitting here staring at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were OK,' I explained to her. 'Have you ever looked at your hands,' she asked. 'I mean really looked at your hands?' I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them. I turned them over, palms up and then palms down. No, I guess I had never really looked at my hands as I tried to figure out the point she was making. Grandma smiled and related this story: 'Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have, how they have served you well throughout your years. These hands though wrinkled, shrivelled and weak have been the tools I have used all my life to reach out and grab and embrace life. 'They braced and caught my fall when as a toddler I crashed upon the floor. They put food in my mouth and clothes on my back. As a child, my mother taught me to fold them in prayer. They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots. They held my husband and wiped my tears when he went off to war. 'They have been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent. They were uneasy and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn son. Decorated with my wedding band they showed the world that I was married and loved someone special. They wrote my letters to him and trembled and shook when I buried my parents and spouse. They have held my children and grandchildren, consoled neighbours, and shook in fists of anger when I didn't understand. They have covered my face, combed my hair, and washed and cleansed the rest of my body. They have been sticky and wet, bent and broken, dried and raw. And to this day when not much of anything else of me works real well these hands hold me up, lay me down, and again continue to fold in prayer. 'These hands are the mark of where I've been and the ruggedness of life. But more importantly it will be these hands that Sai will reach out and take when he leads me home. And with my hands He will lift me to His side and there I will use these hands to touch the face of God. "I will never look at my hands the same again. But I remember God reached out and took my grandma's hands and led her home. When my hands are hurt or sore or when I stroke the face of my children and family, I think of grandma. I know she has been stroked and caressed and held by the hands of SAI. I, too, want to touch the face of our Lord and feel His hands upon my face. When you receive this, say a prayer for everyone in this world and watch HIS answer to your prayers work in your life. Let's continue praying for one another today & every day! Remain Blessed! Duty is Love, Work is Worship Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest guest Posted March 9, 2008 Report Share Posted March 9, 2008 Dear Devotee! Of the three hands, heart and head hands had a winning hand when we are reminded of 'Grand Ma's hands, the life long companion and beyond. It is spirituality written in poetic version. Thanks! C.Shah On Sun, Mar 9, 2008 at 8:49 AM, <MadhviSai> wrote: GRANDMA'S HANDS > > Grandma, some 90 plus years, sat feebly on the patio bench. She didn't move, > just sat with her head down staring at her hands. > > When I sat down beside her she didn't acknowledge my presence; and the > longer I sat; I wondered if she was OK. > > Finally, not really wanting to disturb her but wanting to check on her at > the same time, I asked her if she was OK. She raised her head and looked at > me and smiled. 'Yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking,' she said in a clear > voice strong. > > 'I didn't mean to disturb you, grandma, but you were just sitting here > staring at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were OK,' I explained to > her. > > 'Have you ever looked at your hands,' she asked. 'I mean really looked at > your hands?' > > I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them. I turned them over, palms > up and then palms down. No, I guess I had never really looked at my hands as > I tried to figure out the point she was making. > > Grandma smiled and related this story: > > 'Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have, how they have served > you well throughout your years. These hands though wrinkled, shrivelled and > weak have been the tools I have used all my life to reach out and grab and > embrace life. > > 'They braced and caught my fall when as a toddler I crashed upon the floor. > > They put food in my mouth and clothes on my back. As a child, my mother > taught me to fold them in prayer. They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots. > They held my husband and wiped my tears when he went off to war. > > 'They have been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent. They were uneasy > and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn son. Decorated with my wedding > band they showed the world that I was married and loved someone special. > > They wrote my letters to him and trembled and shook when I buried my parents > and spouse. > > They have held my children and grandchildren, consoled neighbours, and shook > in fists of anger when I didn't understand. > > They have covered my face, combed my hair, and washed and cleansed the rest > of my body. They have been sticky and wet, bent and broken, dried and raw. > And to this day when not much of anything else of me works real well these > hands hold me up, lay me down, and again continue to fold in prayer. > > 'These hands are the mark of where I've been and the ruggedness of life. > > But more importantly it will be these hands that Sai will reach out and take > when he leads me home. And with my hands He will lift me to His side and > there I will use these hands to touch the face of God. " > > I will never look at my hands the same again. But I remember God reached out > and took my grandma's hands and led her home. > > When my hands are hurt or sore or when I stroke the face of my children and > family, I think of grandma. I know she has been stroked and caressed and > held by the hands of SAI. > > I, too, want to touch the face of our Lord and feel His hands upon my face. > > When you receive this, say a prayer for everyone in this world and watch HIS > answer to your prayers work in your life. Let's continue praying for one > another today & every day! > > > GRANDMA'S HANDS > > Grandma, some 90 plus years, sat feebly on the patio bench. She didn't move, > just sat with her head down staring at her hands. > > When I sat down beside her she didn't acknowledge my presence; and the > longer I sat; I wondered if she was OK. > > Finally, not really wanting to disturb her but wanting to check on her at > the same time, I asked her if she was OK. She raised her head and looked at > me and smiled. 'Yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking,' she said in a clear > voice strong. > > 'I didn't mean to disturb you, grandma, but you were just sitting here > staring at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were OK,' I explained to > her. > > 'Have you ever looked at your hands,' she asked. 'I mean really looked at > your hands?' > > I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them. I turned them over, palms > up and then palms down. No, I guess I had never really looked at my hands as > I tried to figure out the point she was making. > > Grandma smiled and related this story: > > 'Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have, how they have served > you well throughout your years. These hands though wrinkled, shrivelled and > weak have been the tools I have used all my life to reach out and grab and > embrace life. > > 'They braced and caught my fall when as a toddler I crashed upon the floor. > > They put food in my mouth and clothes on my back. As a child, my mother > taught me to fold them in prayer. They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots. > They held my husband and wiped my tears when he went off to war. > > 'They have been dirty, scraped and raw, swollen and bent. They were uneasy > and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn son. Decorated with my wedding > band they showed the world that I was married and loved someone special. > > They wrote my letters to him and trembled and shook when I buried my parents > and spouse. > > They have held my children and grandchildren, consoled neighbours, and shook > in fists of anger when I didn't understand. > > They have covered my face, combed my hair, and washed and cleansed the rest > of my body. They have been sticky and wet, bent and broken, dried and raw. > And to this day when not much of anything else of me works real well these > hands hold me up, lay me down, and again continue to fold in prayer. > > 'These hands are the mark of where I've been and the ruggedness of life. > > But more importantly it will be these hands that Sai will reach out and take > when he leads me home. And with my hands He will lift me to His side and > there I will use these hands to touch the face of God. " > > I will never look at my hands the same again. But I remember God reached out > and took my grandma's hands and led her home. > > When my hands are hurt or sore or when I stroke the face of my children and > family, I think of grandma. I know she has been stroked and caressed and > held by the hands of SAI. > > I, too, want to touch the face of our Lord and feel His hands upon my face. > > When you receive this, say a prayer for everyone in this world and watch HIS > answer to your prayers work in your life. Let's continue praying for one > another today & every day! > > > > Remain Blessed! > > Duty is Love, Work is Worship > > -- C.Shah C.H.Shah 91 Grafton Street Arlington MA 02474 USA Tel781 648 2528 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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