Getting older is just a part of life. Skin starts to sag, wrinkles start to appear, and knuckles grow large and painful as we mature. Even still, looking down at aging hands makes us stop and think, “wait, are these mine?!” I don’t look in the mirror and expect to see an aged face. In my head, I’m still young and energetic, but my reflection reminds me about all of the years I have lived. But as Jeannie Sparks puts it, those years are something to be proud of, and its a sentiment that most everyone agrees with!
Those hands have worked until they bled. Those hands showed me how to be humble and kind.”
Each and every wrinkle represents a year that we lived, a trial that we overcame, and a list of chores thousands of miles long that we have done and continue to do day after day. We do these things for the ones that we love. We do what needs to be done. While we may look down and see ugliness, the people that we have worked for and helped and loved see beauty. They see care and compassion and hard work being done without complaint.
This grandmother didn’t see the beauty in her hands, but everyone around had no trouble finding it for her, and they appreciate every bit of work that was done. It’s hard for us to see the good in ourselves, so posts like these help to remind us that it’s there, even if we don’t spot it at first.
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