hands...

I am a hand watcher. It's one of the first things I notice about a person. Whether or not they tell me anything about someone, I still notice them. Generally I pay the most attention to people's fingers. I make note of length, width, and ratio to palm. I look at the shape of the finger nails, how long they are, or if the finger nails are gone.

I watch women's hands; they posess a beauty that fascinates me but I don't really know why. Women have beautiful hands-the things they do with their hands make them even more so. The women I know have gentle, soft, busy hands. They care for themselves, for children, for friends, for strangers.

The men I know-I wouldn't say that their hands are beautiful. But I would say that their hands are strong. Strong, and still gentle.

The hands I have known and do know are gentle. They are strong. They are busy and soft. Men and women alike; my parents, my sisters, my brother. My friends' parents, my friends themselves. Neighbors, teachers, coworkers, even strangers. The simple things that they do-brushing my hair, opening a door for me, carrying groceries, driving me to school, paying for things, wiping away tears, pushing a button on the elevator-all things that people I know well and do not know well have done for me and for others.

Hands do so many things. They can destroy. They can build. They can strike. They can caress. They can wave...and they can flip you off. I have experienced all of those things because someone used their hands.

I wonder what my hands have done.

(...though I do know that I've never flipped anyone off...)