My Sister's Hands

My sister's hands are fair and white;
My sister's hands are dark
My sister's hands are touched with age,
Or by the years unmarked
And often when I pray for strength
To live as He commands
The Father sends me sustenance
In my sister's hands

My sister's hands are lined and worn
With burdens of their own
And yet I know that should I mourn,
I need not weep alone
For often as I seek His grace
To lighten life's demands
The Father sends me solace
Borne in my sister's hands

My sister's hands: compassion's tools
That teach my own their art
Witnesses of charity within the human heart
Bearers of the Savior's love
And mercy unto man
I have felt the Master's touch
In my sister's hands



Credits
Writer(s): Sally Deford
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