My Mother's Hands Knitting

If you look closely, the blueprint of our lives is etched on our hands – what we do, who we are, the people we touch, the passage of time.  This is a picture of my mother’s hands. Every time I gaze upon them, my heart swells with a mysterious love for all of creation, for my mother was, first and foremost, a woman whose hands were always engaged in service to others. My family  commemorates the first anniversary of her “going home” on September 4th. She was 96.

8 when she died and so this has been a year of radical adjustment for us. Despite missing everything physical about her,  the luminous essence of her spirit has not faded. In fact, she remains more radiant than ever. One of mom’s ministries was knitting and she was great at it, always making up her own patterns and color schemes. Everything she made was a work of art and her creations were always for the sheer delight of someone else. When mom knitted, she prayed. Every recipient of her handiwork got not only a beautifully crafted item but also the cries of her generous and loving heart. So inspired, may all of our hands touch, caress and bless the lives of those in need.