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Wisdom from My Mother's Hands
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By Evelyn Heinz
Other Poems by Evelyn Heinz

Wisdom from My Mother's Hands

When I was a little girl
kneeling next to my mother
in church, I looked at
her folded hands in
heartfelt prayer.
I wondered where all
the wrinkles came from
and why her nails were
short and not long like mine.
Her skin was not soft or
smooth like mine.
Now, I look down
at my own hands
kneeling with my daughter
in silent prayer.
Yes, her hands are
smoother than mine.
They are not wrinkled
like mine, for now,
years have passed and
I have become a mother.
Wisdom comes with
time and age.
I bless the thought
that mine came...
from my Mother's hands.

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Submitted: Sunday, November 11, 2012

Last Updated: Sunday, November 11, 2012

About the Poet
Born on October 24, 1939, I was one of seven children. I am now a mother of seven grown children, grandmother of 18, widow, and writer for the past 50 years mostly poetry. Day care provider of many years, now retired. Three poetry books published, but no longer in print, several little poem books self published. Published in local newspapers, several magazines and daily devotionals. My faith, family and writing poetry has brought me thus far.

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