Sunday, August 24, 2008

Graf #1

I work with my hands, something that was beat into me at a young age, by much bigger hands than mine. “If you want something, then you work for it.” my father always said that to me, usually right after I asked for something, like my first guitar, or a car, or twenty bucks. I now find myself with scarred hands, mostly now from a number of metal chips that just love to catch me off guard and bury themselves deep into my flesh, only stopping because a bone got in their way. So I wrap them up and pray the bleeding stops, so I can go back to work. You see I am not working for something anymore, I work for some ones. My two little girls and my wife depend on my working hands. My hands need to be there to protect them, and pick them up when they fall, but at the same time be gentle enough to wipe the tears away, not always easy for me. So I thank the much bigger hands that were there when I was young for showing me how to work with my big hands.

2 comments:

johngoldfine said...

Well, those metal-chip-target hands typed themselves a very slick first assignment.

You give us the bigger hands, your old hands' mission, their current state of being and goals--and you show us your hands having become big (and get to play with the connotations of 'big'--using it straightforward and metaphorical ways.) Somewhere in there we find out about marriage, fatherhood, prayer.

So, wow, it's packed with good stuff!.

Zach said...

I was glad to help you out...son! You realy are the gleaming light at the end of a dark tunnel!