Grandma,
when I think about you,
I see your hands.
They are so frail
and delicate,
yet they're
the strong and dexterous hands
of a master craftsman;
for they've cared for
and nurtured many children,
mended many scrapes,
and dried many tears.
They've planted tomatoes,
picked apples,
and made unforgettable pies.
They've kneaded dough
and transformed plain bread
into the holiday dressing.
They've basted the turkey,
hung tree lights,
lit birthday candles,
and sewed delicate stitches
and patched a lot of holes
in a lot of hearts.
They made a house a home
and applied many
warm and loving pats
at just the right moment.
They are special
and beautiful hands;
for they've touched
the whole family
and lent love
in countless ways.