Oh, I love this track!

As I sat beside the bed holding her frail hand, I noticed the age spots and wrinkles and began to recall memories which included my grandmother's hands. Although they were not adorned with rich jewels or fancy nail polish, I always loved holding her hands and feeling the strength and warmth there. Through her hands my grandmother expressed her love and care for me and taught me lessons that allowed me to know what she valued in life.

I learned the importance of having a strong work ethic from my grandmother. I have heard stories of how my grandmother was a true helpmate to my grandfather. She worked in the garden with him to ensure that they could provide for their children. She washed, sewed, and mended clothing, she canned and preserved fruits and vegetables, and she worked at various outside jobs to make ends meet for the family. I honestly believe that my grandmother did not know the definition of "lazy". My grandmother had working hands.

From my grandmother, I learned that I must never be too busy to serve my family and friends. While she was able, my grandmother lived to serve others. Nothing thrilled her more than to be able to fix my favorite foods if I was coming to visit. I don’t know how she was able to memorize everybody’s favorites, but she did. When preparing family meals for Thanksgiving and Christmas, Grandma was always aware if she was including something everyone would like in the menu. Her house was always spotless; she cleaned and prepared for company because she wanted us to feel welcome. She always made me feel special because of how she prepared for my visits. She had a way of making me feel that my visiting her was a true pleasure. I know that she lived to serve her church family also. I can remember many times that grandmother needed to cook a dish for or make a phone call to someone in need from her church. My grandmother had helping hands.

I learned the value of thoughtfulness from my grandmother. I can honestly say that my grandmother never once forgot my birthday. She wanted me to receive her card first and most of the time I did. Usually a small amount of money was included, but more importantly there was always a message telling me how much she and grandpa loved me and hoped my day would be special. Grandma loved having Christmas at her house. She would have several presents wrapped and waiting just in case someone showed up that she had not been expecting. She never wanted anyone to feel left out. If someone gave Grandma money for a birthday or other holiday present, she was always careful to let the person know what she had spent the money on and how much she had appreciated the gift. I can never recall my grandmother purposefully saying an unkind word about anybody. She defended those she loved and I knew that she would always be supportive of me. My grandmother had kind hands.

I watched my grandmother use her hands to praise the Lord. She praised him in worship, she praised him by collecting soup labels for the Church of God Children’s Home, and she praised him by reading the Bible in devotional time. She was faithful in prayer and I knew that before all else, my grandmother loved God. Many times in my life, I know her prayers had a direct effect on circumstances that I was going through, most recently the birth of my son. I had some complications and he was born six weeks early. I have no doubt that his miraculous health and short stay in the hospital, despite his weight of under four pounds, was a direct result of hers and Grandpa’s faith and their many prayers. In fact, Grandma proudly told everyone she knew about her “miracle baby” as she testified to God’s grace. My grandmother had praying hands.

So, without knowing it, my quiet and unassuming grandmother was able to teach me many valuable lessons that I will carry with me throughout my life. Now, I have begun to realize that my grandmother’s hands were actually just an extension of Christ’s hands and through her I was able to have a glimpse of His love for me.