I
held her hands in mine last night...
they looked so thin and worn...but they held
mine just as tightly...as the day that I was born.
Those gentle and expressive hands...
etched by work and care...have folded over
my bedside...many times in humble prayer.
They've washed for me...they've fed me...
they've helped me be a man...There's something
of our Lord, Himself...
In every mother's hand.
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