Sunday, November 22, 2009

A Story of Two Hands

This is the story of two hands. Not just any two hands, but those of someone who has been a guide, example and teacher in my life.

These hands are strong hands and are able to do marvelous things. But unlike most hands, these hands are different. When young the hands are like any young boys hands, they played, built, worked, learned and grew. In the teenage years they excelled in sports holding school records. The hands began to explore science and yearned to be a jet propulsion engineer one day after serving a mission.

However, like most events in life, there are unexpected twists and turns. These young teenage hands found themselves in a hospital room suffering from a rare form of palsy. The stay there was long and the hands were fighting for life itself. But a miracle occurred. Other hands appointed by the powers on high gave a blessing of healing and divine love and testified of a destiny not yet fulfilled. Healing came, slowly. Though most of the body healed well, the hands bear the evidence of its fight for life and would never be the same.

Most things that should be simple, were now difficult if not impossible, such as buttoning a shirt, holding a drinking glass, picking up small objects.

Such a serious setback didn't matter, because "impossible' was not a word know. The hands gladly accepted a call to serve a mission, though most thought it impossible. the hands received a college education and later a master's degree. Marriage came and then four children. the hands taught hundreds of students to love math and science.

The hands learned the art of building and woodworking. Most called him and his hands "Archimedes" for the ability to create ways to work around roadblocks, like levy and pulley systems, a button-hook to help button dress shirts, and designing creative tools to help in the wood shop. the hands have served many willfully and gladly.

If you shook these hands, you would know they were different. But you would also know they were hands that have continued to live life to the fullest. They have worked hard, served others, loved their family and have loved the Father of us all.

These hands have taught me to never make excuses in life, but rejoice in the blessings that we have and then take those blessings and fulfill them to their greatest potential. We create our own limits on our potential, but the Father gives us the tools to exceed beyond all expectations.

I am grateful for hands, the small hands, the old and the well-used hands, the imperfect hands, but most of all the hands that have sacrificed most of all, our dear Savior.

Ann Sherratt

7 comments:

  1. Were you writting about your Dad? What an inspiring essay. Very well written. Thanks for sharing Ann!

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  2. I beautiful reminder of the power of our hands. Like anything else, hands can bless or abuse. My mother would often say you can't teach a child not to hit by hitting and my father would say that his father never laid a hand on him except to bless him. May our hands bless all they touch.

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  3. Thanks for sharing your inspirational story, Ann. It reminded me of the soft, gentle hands of my brother who had Muscular Dystrophy. The only parts of his body that worked well were his brain and his hands.

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  4. Thank you for sharing this, Ann. You are a very gifted writer!

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  5. This is a powerful, historical and very personal and loving documentation. Thank you for sharing it.

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  6. This is beautiful. It inspires me in so many ways. Thanks Ann.

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  7. Thank you, Ann. Your gentle spirit shines through in everything you do.

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