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   GRANDMA'S HANDS...                                                              ♪Tim Janis -The Promise "- REFLECTIONS♪

Grandma, some ninety plus years, 
sat feebly on the patio bench.. 
She didn't move, just sat with her head down
staring at her hands. 

When I sat down beside her she didn't acknowledge 
my presence and the longer I sat 
I wondered if she was OK.
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'I didn't mean to disturb you, grandma, 
but you were just sitting here staring at your hands 
and I wanted to make sure you were OK, '
I explained to her. 
'Have you ever looked at your hands, ' she asked. '
I mean really looked at your hands? ' 

I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them.
I turned them over, palms up and then palms down. 
No, I guess I had never really 
looked at my hands as I tried to figure out
the point she was making. 
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As a child, my mother taught me to fold them in prayer. 
They tied my shoes and pulled on my boots.
They held my husband and wiped my tears
when he went off to war.

'They have been dirty, scraped and raw, 
swollen and bent. They were uneasy 
and clumsy when I tried to hold my newborn son. 
Decorated with my wedding band 
they showed the world that I was married 
and loved someone special 
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I will never look at my hands 
the same again. But I remember God reached out 
and took my grandma's hands and led her home.
When my hands are hurt or sore 
or when I stroke the face of my children 
and husband I think of grandma. 
I know she has been stroked
and caressed and held by the hands of God. 

I, too, want to touch the face of God 
and feel His hands upon my face.
 -- Melinda Clements
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Finally, not really wanting to disturb her 
but wanting to check on her at the same time, 
I asked her if she was OK. 
She raised her head and looked at me and smiled. 
' Yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking, '
she said in a clear voice strong. 
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Grandma smiled and related this story:
'Stop and think for a moment about the hands you have, 
how they have served you well throughout your years.
These hands, though wrinkled shriveled 
and weak have been the tools 
I have used all my life to reach out 
and grab and embrace life.. 
'They braced and caught my fall 
when as a toddler I crashed upon the floor..
They put food in my mouth 
and clothes on my back. 
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'These hands are the mark
 of where I've been
and the ruggedness of life. 

But more importantly, it will be these hands
that God will reach out
and take when he leads me home. 
And with my hands 
He will lift me to His side 
and there I will use these hands 
to touch
the face of God. ' 
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Safe Keeping
When I was very young
my mother held me in her arms and whispered, 
"Dearest one, I'll keep you safe from harm."
I was too young to understand every word she would say, but the love in her voice
comforted me every day.

When I learned to walk, she held my hand
and lent her strength, so I could stand.
A lifetime is short; I grew older, so did she,
until the day came where, it was she that needed me.
She could barely walk, so I held her hand
and lent her my strength, so she could stand.

When she was very old, I held her in my arms
and whispered "Dearest one,
I'll keep you safe from harm."
She was too old to understand, every word that I said
but the love in my voice, spoke to her instead.
At the end I held her, as she'd once held me
and I whispered, "Dearest one, have a safe journey." 
By Virginia Pasquarelli

♪ The Hoppers - I Will Serve Thee ♪
" Her Hands "
Her hands held me gently from the day I took my first breath. 
Her hands helped to guide me as I took my first step. 
Her hands held me close when the tears would start to fall.
 Her hands were quick to show me she could take care of it all. 
Her hands were there to brush my hair, or straighten a wayward bow. 
Her hands were there to comfort the hurts that didn't always show. 
Her hands helped hold the stars in place, and encouraged me to reach. 
Her hands were there in prayer for me because she always believed. 
Her hands are now twisted with age from pain and years of work. 
Her hands now need my gentle touch to rub away the hurt. 
Her hands are more beautiful today than anything can be. 
Her hands are the very reason of how I came to be."
 ~Maggie Pittman
Welcome Home.

Only a Grandmother . . . 
Can listen to the same knock-knock joke 27 times without hollering "Nobody's Home." 

Will be a Scrabble partner with a kid who thinks "cookie" begins with "k." 

Will unwind 56 feet of toilet paper so her little darling can have the empty roll... to make a Mother's Day present. 

Knows the location of every drive-through window in town. 
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Knows the sure-fire way to get three kids to eat carrots. buy two carrots. 

Is still limber enough to wrestle a fitted sheet onto the top bunk bed. 

Invests fifty dollars in stale macaroons to help send the French Club to Disneyland. 
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Will attempt to teach knitting, even though a dozen stitches are dropped

Has a bathtub that's filled with little yellow duckies. 

Seeing there are only four pieces of pie for five people, promptly announces she never did care for pie.
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Sees a Picasso in those scribbles decorating the fridge. 

Knows all the verses to "This Old Man." 

Can find emergency coins for when the ice cream man drives by. 

Can find her last good pair of panty hose hitching a wagon to a tricycle. 

Can switch from cook to catcher in an instant. 
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Knows the exact temperature a crayon will melt on the dashboard. 

Will try to hide a leafy green vegetable in a cookie. 

Knows the secret to happy grocery shopping with a toddler...

Can cherish the 1,000th bleating of "Twinkle, Twinkle" from a budding violinist. 
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♪ Tim Janis ~ Come Home To Me ♪

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Gran whispered to me
BE HAPPY RIGHT NOW... 
We convince ourselves that life will be better after we get married, have a baby, or two, get a new job,get a new house. Then we are frustrated that the kids aren't old enough and we'll be more content when they grow. 
The truth is, there's no better time to be happy than right now! If not now, when? 
Life will always be filled with challenges. 
It's best to admit this and decide to be happy anyway. 
Happiness is the way. So, treasure every moment and
treasure it more because you shared it with someone special, special enough to spend your time with... 
And remember that time waits for no one! 
So, stop waiting... 
until you lose ten pounds ...until you gain ten pounds 
until you go back to school ...until you finish school 
until you get married ...until your marriage changes 
until you have kids ...until your kids leave the house 
until your car or home is paid off 
until you get a new car or a new job... until you retire 
until summer ...until fall 
until winter ...until spring 
...until you almost die! 
There is no better time than right now to be happy... 
Grandma's house
was something magical
the driveway long and 
dirt and lined with
tall trees whose
branches and leaves
created a tunnel
you traveled through
to her porch
and in the window
sat a pie its aroma
calling us beckoning
its scent drifting
on the breeze
floating from her window
across the porch 
past the swing made for two
and chairs where she drank tea
right on by her rocker
down the steps
along the walkway
to our car magically
leading us to her door
Traveler On the Backroads
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Native Iowan, Doug Knutson, brings to life his Midwest surroundings in his landscapes, still life and wildlife paintings. Currently, Doug Knutson resides in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, where he works as a freelance illustrator, which give him the flexibility of time to devote to his love of nostalgia, antiques, rural life, and to be inspired by his Midwestern surroundings.
Is there anything warmer or more gentle and comforting then a Gran? The mere memory of the lovely placid lady who brightened my youth grants me strength, I can honestly feel her hand holding mine. My Gran taught me unconditional love and acceptance, through her I learnt the value of honesty and integrity, the importance of caring for others, 
of kindness and compassion.

I do not believe I will ever fully come to terms with no longer having my Gran’s physical presence in my life.
 I try, as a Mother, a friend, a daughter and a wife, to walk in her direction, but I do not possess her level of calmness or selflessness. I think of her daily,
 and I love anything that reignites the joy and ease
 I experienced in her company.

My Gran made the best caramel slice. Did everyone’s Gran do that?
If only I could be sharing this with her, I know she would be so proud. This slice is a toast to all the Gran’s out there, holding hands and warming hearts, giving unconditional love and acceptance in ways only Grans can, how thankful we are to have you in lives.
Wholefoodsimply/as-good-as-Gran's-caramel-slice
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"Grandma's Bible"

My most prized possession is not of silver or of gold.
The tattered edges show its use; it really is quite old.
This treasure belonged to Grandma, 
sweetest angel placed on earth.
It is my Grandma's Bible; I can't measure what it's worth.

What makes this Bible special is not its binding or its age.
It's all the notes that Grandma made
 on each and every page.
I really learned of God from her, 
though she never "preached" at me.
She showed His love in all she did for all the world to see.

Grandma was so dear to me, and I miss her very much.
But reading Grandma's Bible is my way to stay in touch.
Though she's been gone awhile now, 
her sweet face I still can see.
And as I'm reading Grandma's Bible, 
she's still teaching me! 
 by~ Cheryl Crumpler
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HER HANDS...
Her hands held me gently from the day I took my first breath.
Her hands helped to guide me as I took my first step.
Her hands held me close when the tears would start to fall.
Her hands were quick to show me 
that she would take care of it all.

Her hands were there to brush my hair, or straighten a wayward bow.
Her hands were often there to comfort the hurts that didn't always show.
Her hands helped hold the stars in place, and encouraged me to reach.
Her hands would clap and cheer
and praise when I captured them at length.

Her hands would also push me, though not down or in harms way.
Her hands would punctuate the words, just do what I say.
Her hands sometimes had to discipline, to help bend this young tree.
Her hands would shape and mold me 
into all she knew I could be.

Her hands are now twisting with age and years of work,
Her hand now needs my gentle touch to rub away the hurt.
Her hands are more beautiful than anything can be.
Her hands are the reason I am me.
© Maggie Pittman 
Picture
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Grandma and a little girl with bright red freckles were at the zoo. Children were lining up to have their cheeks painted. 
A boy called out “You’ve got so many freckles, there’s no place to paint!” 
Embarrassed, the little girl turned away. Her grandma knelt by her. “I love your freckles,” she said.“I DON'T,” the girl replied in tears.“When I was little I always wanted freckles” she said, tracing her finger across the child’s cheek. 
“Freckles are beautiful!” The girl looked up. “Really?”“Yes,” said Grandma. “Why, name me one thing prettier than freckles.”The girl gazed on Grandma's face. “Wrinkles,” she whispered.
"The Eyes of Love"
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A Mama's Hands
One young man went to apply for a managerial position in a big company. 
He passed the initial interview, and now would meet the director for the final interview.
The director discovered from his CV that the youth's academic achievements were excellent. 
He asked, "Did you obtain any scholarships in school?" the youth answered "no".

" Was it your father who paid for your school fees?"
"My father passed away when I was one year old, it was my mother who paid for my school fees.” he replied.
" Where did your mother work?"
"My mother worked as clothes cleaner.”
The director requested the youth to show his hands. 
The youth showed a pair of hands that were smooth and perfect.
" Have you ever helped your mother wash the clothes before?"
"Never, my mother always wanted me to study and read more books.
Besides, my mother can wash clothes faster than me.
The director said, "I have a request. When you go home today, go and clean your mother's hands, 
and then see me tomorrow morning.

The youth felt that his chance of landing the job was high. When he went back home, he asked his mother to let him clean her hands. His mother felt strange, happy but with mixed feelings, she showed her hands to her son.
The youth cleaned his mother's hands slowly. His tear fell as he did that. 
It was the first time he noticed that his mother's hands were so wrinkled, and there were so many bruises in her hands. Some bruises were so painful that his mother winced when he touched it.
This was the first time the youth realized that it was this pair of hands that washed the clothes everyday to enable him to pay the school fees. The bruises in the mother's hands were the price that the mother had to pay for his education, his school activities and his future.
After cleaning his mother hands, the youth quietly washed all the remaining clothes for his mother.
That night, mother and son talked for a very long time.

Next morning, the youth went to the director's office.
The Director noticed the tears in the youth's eyes, when he asked: 
"Can you tell me what have you done and learned yesterday in your house?"
The youth answered," I cleaned my mother's hand, and also finished cleaning all the remaining clothes'
“I know now what appreciation is. Without my mother, I would not be who I am today. 
By helping my mother, only now do I realize how difficult and tough it is to get something done on your own. 
And I have come to appreciate the importance and value of helping one’s family.
The director said, "This is what I am looking for in a manager. 
I want to recruit a person who can appreciate the help of others, a person who knows the sufferings of others to get things done, and a person who would not put money as his only goal in life.”
“You are hired.”

This young person worked very hard, and received the respect of his subordinates. 
Every employee worked diligently and worked as a team. The company's performance improved tremendously.

A child, who has been protected and habitually given whatever he wanted, would develop an "entitlement mentality" and would always put himself first. He would be ignorant of his parent's efforts. When he starts work, 
he assumes that every person must listen to him, and when he becomes a manager, he would never know the sufferings of his employees and would always blame others. For this kind of people, who may be good academically, they may be successful for a while, but eventually they would not feel a sense of achievement. 
They will grumble and be full of hatred and fight for more. If we are this kind of protective parents, 
are we really showing love or are we destroying our children instead?

You can let your child live in a big house, eat a good meal, learn piano, watch on a big screen TV. 
But when you are cutting grass, please let them experience it. After a meal, let them wash their plates and bowls together with their brothers and sisters. It is not because you do not have money to hire a maid, 
but it is because you want to love them in a right way. You want them to understand, 
no matter how rich their parents are, one day their hair will grow gray, 
same as the mother of that young person. The most important thing is your child learns how to appreciate
 the effort and experience the difficulty and learns the ability to work with others to get things done.
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♥♥♥
Grandmothers are a family's greatest treasure, the founders of a loving legacy, 
The greatest storytellers, the keepers of traditions that linger on in cherished 
memory. Grandmothers are the family's strong foundation. Their very special love 
sets them apart. Through happiness and sorrow, through their special love and 
caring, grandmothers keep a family close at heart. 
~ author unknown

 Grandmother, with love
Golden years
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