Her hands are meant for work—
preparing garden vegetables,
washing pots and pans,
stitching mission babies,
sewing baby blankets,
baking and icing cakes,
sewing satin pillowcases,
crocheting caps or potholders,
pouring steamy strawberry jam
in piping-hot Ball jars on counters.
She awakens with dreams for doing in the early morning.
At night she rests in slumber with dreams of what was done.
Her hands hold a purposeful plan from sunrise to sunset.
Yet, she always has time for one important thing—praying.
That is the filler, she claims, for connecting all the hours
to one very important thing—goodness—a place where
she likes to linger a lil’ longer, a place she likes to stay.
Her tasks are mighty; they rise like warm, streaming rays.
Stay near her. You will see those busy hands pause.
You will see a smile accenting irreplaceable peace;
it is as if she just received flowers from an old friend.
Stay near her. You will hear her whispers—Amen. Amen.