My Mother's Hands -A heartfelt tribute to mothers-

Bev Hulsizir *

The most beautiful word on the lips of mankind is the word "mother." The Love of a mother is life's greatest blessing. Yet, we often forget to tell her how much she's cherished. That way the second Sunday of May has been set apart to show our love and gratitude.

As we join the rest of the world in celebrating Mother's Day, I recollect a stirring story which my late father shared with me. This story entitled "My Mother's Hands" has been imprinted in my heart ever since.

A few years ago, when my mother was visiting, she asked me to go shopping with her because she needed a new dress. I don't normally like to go shopping with other people, and I'm not a patient person, but we set off for the mall together nonetheless. We visited nearly every store that carried ladies' dresses, and my mother tried on dress after dress, rejecting them all. As the day wore on, I grew weary and my mother grew frustrated.

Finally, at our last stop, my mother tried on a lovely blue three-piece dress. The blouse had a bow at the neckline, and as I stood in the dressing room with her, I watched as she tried with much dificulty to tie the bow. Her hands were so badly crippled from arthritis that she couldn't do it.

Immediately, my impatience gave way to an overwhelming wave of compassion for her. I turned away to hide the tears that welled up involuntarily. Regaining my composer, I turned back to tie the bow for her.

The dress was beautiful, and she bought it. Our shopping trip was over, but the event was etched indelibly in my memory.

For the rest of the day, my mind kept returning to that moment in the dressing room and to the vision of my mother's hands trying to tie the bow. Those loving hands that had fed me, bathed me, dressed me, caressed and comforted me, and, most of all, prayed for me, were now touching me in a most remarkable manner.

Later in the evening, I went to my mother's room, took her hands in mine, kissed them and, much to her surprise, told her that to me they were the most beautiful hands in the world.

I'm so grateful that God let me see with new eyes what a precious, priceless gift a loving, self-sacrificing mother is. I can only pray that some day my hands and my heart will have earned such a beauty of their own.

This world has many wonders, God's many vistas grand;

But none can ever rival

The beauty of Mother's hands.
- Wilma Heffelfinger