My Grandmother's Hands

 

After hearing "Look at Your Hands" at the joint service at First Congregational this Sunday, Julie revealed this stunning testimony to her grandmother's hands. We're grateful for her willingness to share!

 

My Grandmother’s Hands                                                                                    Julie Luce

 

I see the love of God in my Grandmother’s hands,

They are old now and worn, they are spotted and gnarled.

But so much of God’s love has come through those hands…

 

My Grandmother’s hands offered apples to patients at a nursing

home, those who waited all week for the apple, a smile and a kind

word.

 

My Grandmother’s hands knitted slippers to warm her family’s feet,

to warm their hearts, and to warm others’ feet as well. Her hands

knit blankets to welcome babies and to soothe new mothers.

 

My Grandmother’s hands baked with love: Crumb cake for those who

loved it; Stollen, for Christmas gifts, kneaded and tended for an entire

day into almost 20 loaves of thanks and caring; Kuechle, before Ash

Wednesday to announce the Lenten season; Chocolate chip cookies,

for little hands, and grateful mouths. Apfelkuchen, Zwetzgenkuchen,

apple cakes, plum cakes, the fruits of the season, baked with a loving

heart.

 

My Grandmother’s hands made homemade apple sauce – Apfelmuss,

from the big apple tree in her front yard, a tree which yielded three

types of the fruit. Her hands peeled and mashed, added some special

sweets, and made it good. She made the best potato salad around,

and couldn’t quite give you the recipe, for it was made with a pinch of

this and a spoonful of that.

 

My Grandmother’s hands held the cards carefully, so you couldn’t

peek. She was quite a card shark at Pinochle, and I was glad to often

be on her team. She knew all the tricks, and we would beat Daniel &

my mom often, because she was a great card player. Her face gave

nothing away, and as she put her hands down on the table, you knew

you were beaten; because she held all the trumps in her hands…

 

My Grandmother’s hands loved the earth. She enjoyed putting her

hands into the soil, turning it over, making her garden grow joyously.

 

My grandmother’s hands loved flowers. She tended her garden

faithfully, weeded and watered, raked and planted.

 

My Grandmother’s hands loved the Bible. She would read quietly,

alone in her home, reflecting on her life, thinking of others, always

thinking of others.

 

My Grandmother’s hands came together in prayer; for the tragedies

in the world; for poverty in our country; for lonely, forgotten people,

people in need, sick and homeless people; Her hands came together

in thanksgiving for family and friends; in love for Jesus and God, the

Creator of us all. My Grandmother loved God, cared deeply for others

and prayed with her whole heart.

 

My Grandmother would take her hands and hold your face in them,

look you directly in the eye and tell you that she loved you. In my

Grandmother’s hands, I saw the face of God.

 

 

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