My hands have been blessed with creativity. They have embroidered, knitted, done needlepoint, smocked and quilted. My hands have drawn and painted, cut and pasted many craft projects.

My hands took care of my children when my children were babies and held their hands, as they grew older and taught them to read.

They have held the hands of my grandchildren and folded many clothes and fixed broken toys.

My hands have provided me the pleasure of playing bingo with my friends. My hands have petted many pets that I have loved.

My hands have enjoyed the sensual feel of fabrics and have sewn clothes for me and for my children and served them with hot cups of milk when thirsty.

My hands tickled the backs of my husband and my children. My hands held their heads when they were sick and throwing up.

My hands have arranged flowers and pulled weeds and planted bulbs.

My hands have kneaded dough, baked cookies and cooked for my family, friends and guests, serving them with good food and drinks.

My hands are no longer smooth but they have served me well and deserve respect and appreciation. They have been the instruments of my soul.