These are the hands that held my newborn daughter.  They fit nicely in my husband’s much bigger hands.  When I was a little girl, my daddy held my hand as we walked across parking lots.  My teachers worked with me as I learned to use them to print, to write in cursive, to type, to press the “return” key at the end of every line.  My mom showed me how to use my hands to curl my hair, scramble eggs, chop onions, scrub bathtubs. Later I learned to use my hands to make biscuits, cookies, pancakes, bread, and other yummy … Continue reading Hands