My mother's hands

During my stay in Xiang Yuan's Organic Farm, I thoughtt of my mum quite often. It's not homesickness. While working at the farm, I found myself smiling whenever I stepped among theantith my tools. I waly happy just being there a getting my hands dirty and working hard.

Under the hot sun weeding for the growing crops like t corn plants, chilli plants and to remove weeds to make coodusive space for more young seedlings. I tried

 to work fast but my perfectionistic and meticulous side of me do slow me down. My fingers on my right hand have become thicker just within a few days. The ring finger cannot be bent fully towards my palm. Every night I tried to rub on my right hand fingers hoping to make them agile.

I have always admire hands with thick fingers and deep lines scratched with cutshere and there. My  mother's hands will never be complimented as ' beautiful' by conventional description. Her fingers are coarse and thick, finger nails chipped and short. My mother is quite insecure with her pair of hands.

I love my mother's hand. They are hands with deep lines of stories. Hands which sacrificed a young woman's suppleness way too early for her dilligence and care for her parents and siblings with daily manual chores. The fingers which lost their slenderness to even more unconditional care for her husband, mother-in-law and children.

hands of sacrifice and love...

My mother's hands have never been idle. Hers is such a soulful hands with stories of selfless love for her family. My small slender hands are shadowed by hers.

I thought of her hands when I looked at my swollen right ring finger and smiled. I hope my journey in wwoofing will mould them to be like my moher's, dilligent and serving. And may it never stop when I return home... to do much more for my mum and to serve others selflessly with them.

Thank you mother, for inspiring just with your actions. And your beautiful pair of hands.
谢谢 妈妈