Loving Hands…

I love hands for many reasons…creativity, the ability to hold things, expressiveness. Hands can have a calming influence, think massage and caresses…they can protect, and they are mechanically amazing!

I loved drawing my hands when I was doing my GCSE’s…(not so keen on drawing my feet though!)

My father has big, strong hands…hands that made me feel safe no matter what. In fact, it was straight into his hands that I was delivered as a newborn baby…

When I was a child I loved slipping my hand into his and feeling his fingers close around mine with warmth and security. His hands, though calloused and scratched at times, were always soft and smooth and comforting. It was his hands that blessed me when I was sick, held mine while I cried and taught me the principles that I should live by. I loved that his hands always held my mother’s.

When I first met Vince, I shook his hand, a month later that hand took mine and led me onto the dance floor, from that moment I didn’t want to let go…

The strength of his hands and forearms are the most attractive part of a man to me…
I love being held, and hand-holding is a universal way of showing affection. When two people walk side by side and their hands search for each other and take hold, don’t let go of the feeling that ensues…that rush of love and closeness…

If you ever get lonely, 
look at the spaces between your
fingers and remind yourself 
that mine fit in there perfectly. 
My husband’s hands are like my father’s, large and firm… I smile when our fingers touch and when his hand holds mine I feel as though I am where I belong. His hands hold mine when I need comfort and assurance, they help me when I’m burdened, they guide me when I need it and catch me when I fall. 
More than that they do the same for our children…
The most beautiful thing in the world is to watch your child walk hand in hand with their father…
Photograph: Two Hands by Lisa Shambrook (Please do not use without permission)
I hope my girls seek out a man with strong hands, hands that work hard, that comfort, that teach and love…
My son is a hand-holder, an affectionate young man, with hands that are growing and learning. I love holding his hand and take pride that he is not ashamed to do so! I love watching my son grow…his hands are no longer the hands of a boy, but have an assuredness and firmness of a young man. Hands that I know will cherish and love in the future…hands that will hold newborns, hands that will bless his family, hands that will teach and lift and inspire…
I love hands…  

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