These Hands

Every year, at my #1 job, we have a door decorating contest. I usually try to come up with some creative idea that will 'wow' the judges, but this year, what evolved was a lovely and touching creation that 'wowed' me!

I started by looking around for ideas for my 'Art and Music' group. The people who come to it are varied - some enjoy the socialization; some are very much interested in the art; some sing along to the music. It is always a challenge to find a project that will have meaning to the people who come to the group.

I found an idea from a teacher's website to create a tree using hand prints. The directions were trace around the hands, create the tree out of them and put hearts on them to say who the participants loved. Since I work with seniors, I decided to adapt the idea and make it more 'grown up'.

This is how it evolved.

We started by using one group to make actual hand prints using paint. This took a long time and it seemed that we might end up needing more hands to finish the project, so I asked others in the rest of my small groups to 'lend a helping hand'.
These other groups allowed me to trace their hands. Each person was asked to give a statement about their hands which was added to a prose-poem. One member didn't think that hearts had much to do with Christmas, but mittens and stockings did, so we decided to decorate the tree with mittens , since that would 'tie' the theme together.

It was inspiring to hear the statements. Many of the participants are 'senior' seniors. Their hands have been through so much. As I traced their hands, the conversation flowed about the marks of life that had been left on their hands. Some bemoaned that their hands 'were not very nice' and were encouraged by other group members to give the hands credit for all they had contributed in their lifetime.

The following week, we spent the time arranging the hands in the pattern and decorating with the mittens. The poem was printed out and posted alongside so that the judges could see the connection.

I thought my cyber readers might feel inspired by this, so I took a couple of pictures and am printing the resulting poem.



These Hands

These hands are old.
These hands are delicate.
These hands have hugged many grandchildren.
These hands were made for loving.
These hands have cooked a lot of meals and done a lot of dishes.
These hands have worked hard all their life.
These hands make snowballs.
These hands protect.
These hands are beautiful.
These hands have picked up their first baby.
These hands gave me all they had.
These hands are beautiful.