MY SISTER’S HANDS

My sister was golden curls,

Sparkling blue eyes,

A laugh that infected us

With her exuberance for life.

My sister’s hands

Wove beauty into sculptures and jewelry.

My sister’s hands spoke to children

Who could not hear her words or laughter.

My sister’s hands held mine

When we did not know if

I would make it through another afternoon.

My sister’s hands were the ones I held

As the pain left her face in angelic peace.

On this anniversary of her passing, I am so very grateful for my sister’s beautiful hands, their creativity and caring.