Daddy's Hands

Ooops!  Just found this.  Better late than never.
Think back...last week...I was out on the deck counting my blessings.  As I reflected, my daddy's hands flooded my memory...

Two days before Thanksgiving
I think of "Daddy's hands."
A base of gratitude so great,
on which he firmly stands!
Hands that never met a task
that they could not complete...
hands that would assist a total
stranger on the street!
Those hands of his--so many came 
from places near and far:
from helping with my homework to
to rebuilding someone's car!
Little seemed to hinder him,
save at the very end
when just the lightest handshake seemed
to knock him on his end!
But those hands, soft as I recall,
constructed many a thing;
and fascination mounted as
he told what each shift would bring!
And soft and gentle were they,
any year to matter not,
as love and comfort came from them
in all of what life brought!

Daddy's hands--I never shall forget
the feeling of his touch!
And, with each year that passes, I
miss that touch more so much!
Developing...loving...or
encouraging a life--
I thank God for my daddy's hands
but all throughout my life!!

Daddy could fix anything that was brought to him.  If something was missing a part, he could make it from scratch!  Most of all, however, I remember that he was always 'there' and had an encouraging word or hug.  Such a legacy could only be given to me by God!
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