Inspired by a picture of the subject’s hands at rest.
These hands, look at them! Worn, gnarled,
Still they serve her though not well.
From childhood they have done her bidding,
And still til life’s last knell.
Clasped, in supplication folded
Ten thousand times and more,
The Master’s strength sustained them for
The harsh trials that they bore.
So very simple to behold,
Just tools to do her will,
Though age and work have worn them so,
They hold great beauty still.
Her hands have held her children close
And answered life’s demands,
As tears of pain and joy have flowed
With love in Betty’s hands.