The Hands

Hands that caress a child's little face,
hands that keep everything in it's place.

Hands that turned the pages of His Word,
tucking me in when the message was heard.

Hands that showed me how to pray,
and guided me to church each Sunday.

Hands that showed me how tall I'd grown,
and pointed to all that God's made known.

Hands that carried me in times of need,
encouraging me in love to succeed.

Hands that walked me down to the alter,
and proved His Word would never falter.

Hands I've watched that have now grown old,
Hands that now I gladly must hold.

Hands I've known more than any other,
the precious hands of a Christian Mother!

By: Preston Pittman.

I love you.