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Hands | by barnabywasson
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My hands link me to my past, present, and future.


My hands are my father’s hands. I feel my father’s presence each time I hold my daughter’s hand. My hands give me and others comfort, protection, love, form, shape, and care.


My hands are childhood and fatherhood.


The scars on my hands remind me of the life they are yet to live. I need me to look after them so that they can do what they need to do tomorrow.



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Taken on July 4, 2005