I wrote this poem for my mom a couple of years back and added the handprints of my adult siblings so she could hang it on her fridge. She LOVED it! (It’s still hanging there today!) – the poem below the pic is a bit updated and slightly different from the original.
My Hands – By Christy
These hands are not as tiny
As they were so long ago
What once left dirty fingerprints
Has now had time to grow
It didn’t happen all at once
It happened day by day
Watching your hands out to serve
And folded when you pray
Hand that rarely were your own
Always working hard for us
Hands that always kept us safe
Hand we knew that we could trust
Serving, tying, pushing, brushing
Pulling, writing, drawing, mixing
Cooking, washing, changing, flushing
Scrubbing, loving, holding, fixing
These tiny little baby hands
You held before they’d grown
Now hold the little baby hands
Of children of their own
And so I want to thank you
On this, your Mother’s Day
For all you did to help my hands
Love my kids in your same way
