Hands

Hands

Jesus spoke in parables
So we could understand
He helps us in our troubles
That we will know first hand

For He draws things in the sand

He spoke of the body, too
The foot, nose, back, side, and face
He spoke of what hands can do
And someday Him, we'll embrace

We’ll witness what's pierced and trace…

The most difficult to paint
Of all the human body
The hand is hard to create
To study, capture and embody

Whether babe soft or grown knobby

To place the small in the large
Is the tenderest of sights
Love and trust are put in charge!
And one feels life's sweet delights

Oh, to have small fingers grasping tight!

The sentiments of such love
Should arouse fidelity
A babe giv'n from God above
Is a small package of fragility

And we've a responsibility

When those hands start to grow up
They must learn to be engaged
They can use a measuring cup
And serve both the young and aged

There lies love that can't be waged

Then comes the day they've grown
On each, a finger - a ring
A pledge made that is their own
Sealed as one to cling

At the alter - love's offering

Time passes... hands now of a mother
Bathing, dressing, and feeding
She will serve like no other
Her baby's ever needing

She gives training while leading

Time passes... hands now of a father
His hands support the family
He's unafraid of labor
Oft it provides, but scantily

He'll express thanks happily

In each of the parents hands
Is a sweet willingness to give,
They'll sacrifice their own plans
For each child's future yet to live

With love, their highest motive

And, amidst all these years
Have been unseen hands knocking
Ministering to tears
With or without their spotting

Available for the asking

Thomas S. Monson
"Hands", Aug 1990
Ensign