Hands

The importance of my hands occurred to me today. What I choose to use them for is up to me. I can decide to dedicate them to one single purpose or many purposes. I can choose to let my hands lay idle and become susceptible to destruction. My hands help me write, read and eat. Against another's face I brush my hands, a tangible form of affection. With my hands I wipe my tears and hold my head. The grip of my hands feeds up through my arms, together they administer a strong embrace, a sign of love. Before I eat, my hands are folded, ready to pray.