"A good father will leave his imprint on his daughter
for the rest of her life."
James C. Dobson
His Hands
By Elece Hollis
As we harvested the grapes for jelly-making
I took photos of his hands;
I wanted never to forget those hands,
How they looked in my mind's eye.
The photos shocked me—rocked me
Never would I have thought those hands
Had already become strange, drifted
My daddy's hands—into the shallows of my memory.
I think I only imagined I knew
What his hands looked like—those hands.
What is it I do remember?
It's how those hands felt holding mine.
When I was small and frightened, those hands
Caught me, lead me, nurtured me.
Those are comforting memories,
Which cannot be captured in a photograph.
Fix your thoughts on what is true and good and right.
Think about things that are pure and lovely, and dwell
on the fine good things in others.
Philippians 4:8 TLB
Helen Steiner Rice wrote many poems about the love of family.
In this book her beloved poems are paired with devotional thoughts written by Elece Hollis.
