savanahsteele
Dec 8, 2011
Undergraduate / 'The hands of my nana' - somebody who left a handprint in my life [3]
In life there are several people who influence you, some good and some bad, but the most significant being the influences that have left a handprint in your heart. The most important woman in my life uses her hands to lead me along as I am growing up. The hands of my nana were once fragile and tiny, now transparent and gnarled. As a child, she worked alongside her siblings picking food from the garden for the night's supper, until she got a job serving barbecue at a local restaurant. There at the age of fifteen, she met the father of her future children; the love of her life. Soon they were married, and had three children in which they raised together, my mother being the oldest. My nana was the first person to hold me when I was born, making us inseparable from then on. She cradled me gently while I wrapped my petite hand around her fingers. I lay comfortably in her lap, consumed by the blanket she put hours into sewing for me, not without pain. The needle punctured her fingers innumerable times, but the delicate hands continued until the flawless blanket was completed for the new baby, me. I received my first bike at the age of four, and I observed my nana put on the training wheels as I bounced on my toes hardly capable of containing the excitement that was in me. She held on tightly to me to confirm that she wouldn't allow me to fall. Her hands guided my hands as I was learning to write my name, teaching me carefully to make sure it was immaculate and neat. On my very first day of Kindergarten, nana drove me to school, cautiously watching the road and guiding her hands around the wheel as she convinced me my new place of confinement would be enjoyable. She held my trembling hands as I walked into the brightly colored classroom filled with hyper children and excitement, and made all of my fears go away. Years later, the aging hands took off the training wheels from the Barbie bicycle that she had bought for me, and exchanged them with all of the necessities: kneepads, helmets, mouth guards, and elbow pads. I was prepared. My nana used her hands to assist me onto the bike, to push me along as I rode the first time without training wheels. I watched how she put her hands together to pray, and I did the same. She taught me about God, and his everlasting love and mercy. She used her hands to do the work of Christ and I knew that's what I wanted to do, too. My nana is my role-model in life. She gives me a strong, Christian example to look up to and I am so thankful to have such a wonderful woman to help shape my heart.
In life there are several people who influence you, some good and some bad, but the most significant being the influences that have left a handprint in your heart. The most important woman in my life uses her hands to lead me along as I am growing up. The hands of my nana were once fragile and tiny, now transparent and gnarled. As a child, she worked alongside her siblings picking food from the garden for the night's supper, until she got a job serving barbecue at a local restaurant. There at the age of fifteen, she met the father of her future children; the love of her life. Soon they were married, and had three children in which they raised together, my mother being the oldest. My nana was the first person to hold me when I was born, making us inseparable from then on. She cradled me gently while I wrapped my petite hand around her fingers. I lay comfortably in her lap, consumed by the blanket she put hours into sewing for me, not without pain. The needle punctured her fingers innumerable times, but the delicate hands continued until the flawless blanket was completed for the new baby, me. I received my first bike at the age of four, and I observed my nana put on the training wheels as I bounced on my toes hardly capable of containing the excitement that was in me. She held on tightly to me to confirm that she wouldn't allow me to fall. Her hands guided my hands as I was learning to write my name, teaching me carefully to make sure it was immaculate and neat. On my very first day of Kindergarten, nana drove me to school, cautiously watching the road and guiding her hands around the wheel as she convinced me my new place of confinement would be enjoyable. She held my trembling hands as I walked into the brightly colored classroom filled with hyper children and excitement, and made all of my fears go away. Years later, the aging hands took off the training wheels from the Barbie bicycle that she had bought for me, and exchanged them with all of the necessities: kneepads, helmets, mouth guards, and elbow pads. I was prepared. My nana used her hands to assist me onto the bike, to push me along as I rode the first time without training wheels. I watched how she put her hands together to pray, and I did the same. She taught me about God, and his everlasting love and mercy. She used her hands to do the work of Christ and I knew that's what I wanted to do, too. My nana is my role-model in life. She gives me a strong, Christian example to look up to and I am so thankful to have such a wonderful woman to help shape my heart.