My Hands

I took a good look at my hands last night. Somehow without realizing it I had gotten into the habit of hiding my hands from sight when talking with other people. I was ashamed of how awful they looked. They were dry, cut, rough, and my nails were very short. Last night as I was getting ready to use hand cream because the dryness felt uncomfortable, I actually gave some thought to the uses of my hands. I realized that my hands were reflections of my daily life, and that I need not be ashamed of them. The dryness of them can't be helped - that happens every winter. That's just part of what makes me unique - dry skin in winter! Then there are the cuts. Some of them came from stacking firewood. Some came from playing with a cat who got overly rambunctious. Some are paper cuts from volunteering at school. The roughness is from using cleaners around the house, pulling splinters from firewood out of my hands and fingers, and some burned spots in various stages of healing. I keep the nails short in order to do my job - it would take me twice as long to type with long nails. In thinking of these things, I realized that my hands are a reflection of me - what I do, and what's important in my life. I suppose I could wear gloves, learn to type with long nails, and stop playing with my pets, but what fun would that be?! My hands reflect who and what is important to me, so I'll just have to unlearn my habit of hiding them (and use hand cream a little more often!)