My Mother’s Hands_口语mymother

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My Mother’s Hands This world has many wonders, God’s many vistas grands;But none can ever rival The beauty of Mother’s hands.Wilma Heffelfinger

A few years ago, when my mother was visiting, she asked me to go shopping with her because she needed a new dre.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 nonethele.We visited nearly every store that carried ladies’ drees, and my mother tried on dre after dre, rejecting them all.As the day wore on, I grew weary and my mother grew frustrated.at our last stop, my mother tried on a lovely blue three-piece dre.The blouse had a bow at the neckline, and as I stood in the dreing room with her, I watched as she tried, with much difficulty, 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 compaion for her.I turned away to try and hide the tears that welled up involuntarily.Regaining my composure, I turned back to tie the bow for her.The dre 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 dreing room and to the vision of my mother’s hands trying to tie that bow.Those loving hands that had fed me, bathed me, dreed me, careed 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 a precious, pricele 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.Bev Hulsizer