chapter one

i love your hands

The other day we were returning from our "hot date" (as the girls would say), and I happened to look at your hands as you were opening the door. In that quick moment, I thought to myself, I really love those hands. We both laugh at the size of your hands. Remember the time the man stopped us on our way out of the temple to take a look at our hands together. He had been sitting close to us and couldn't believe how big yours were compared to mine! He was amazed that your great big hands don't crush mine. Just the opposite. They protect me. They make me feel safe.

Your hands remind me how hard you work. They bring back warm feelings of gratitude for the many late night and even all night labors of love you have given as you've completed one of the many projects I have dreamed up. When I think of your hands, I think of how capable you are. Each time I have a need, those hands think of a way to make it happen. They make me feel loved.

I love the way your hands have become just as comfortable dressing a barbie doll for one of your little girls as they are changing a tire. I love the way use them to give priesthood blessings. I love to watch them holding the tiny hands of your little girls or bringing peals of laughter as you tickle them. They love it. So do I.

I don't know if I've ever told you that. That I love your hands.