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Scarred Hands

Beautiful Scars
At Nancy’s birthday party,
Before her friends came in,
She reminded her mom
Of the shape her hands were in.

“They’re so scarred and ugly
I don’t want my friends to see.
Cover your hands with gloves,
They’re as awful as can be.”

The girls were very happy,
It was such a joyful day. 
Busy in the kitchen,
Mom’s gloves got in the way.

She smiled as she made the things
She knew her daughter wished,
Removed the gloves for a moment,
As she made a party dish.

She forgot about the gloves,
As she served the birthday cake.
But upon seeing Nancy’s face,
She realized her mistake.

Her friends saw the scars
And Nancy’s dreadful fears, 
As she left the party
In a flood of tears.

She marched up to her room
Without saying a thing.
She didn’t know the heartache
Her mother’s hands could bring.

Mom rushed in behind her
While she sobbed there on the bed.
Her little body trembled,
And this is what she said—

“Oh Mommy, Mommy!
I am so ashamed!
My friends will never like me,
And you’re the one to blame!”

Tears came to her mother’s eyes,
As she breathed a heavy sigh.
She knew it was time to tell her,
So this was her reply—

“Nancy, when you were just a baby,
And times were very hard,
I suddenly smelled some smoke
While working in the yard.

“I turned to see the house
Was filling up with flames.
I ran real fast inside
And to your crib I came.

“I quickly grabbed a blanket,
The only thing I could do.
The fire was burning me,
But I kept it off of you.

“So, now you know what happened,
And how my hands got burned.
I didn’t want to tell you,
But some day you would learn.”

Nancy turned toward her mother,
With a look of sheer surprise,
Her heart was filled with sorrow,
As tears fell from her eyes.

She threw her arms around her,
And quickly kissed her neck. 
She learned a life-long lesson
That she would not forget.

Mom told Nancy and her friends
About a Bible time,
Of other scarred hands—
Hands that were divine!
James Tate Nov 21, 2015

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