Beautiful Hands

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*adapted from Lawton B. Evans

Happy homes need helpful hands.

Some girls were talking by the brook, boasting of their beautiful hands. One of the dipped her hands in the sparkling water and the drops looked like diamonds falling from her palms.

“See what beautiful hands I have! The water runs from them like precious jewels,” said she, and held up her hands for everyone to admire. They were very soft and white, for she had never done anything but wash them in clear, cold water.

Another one of them ran to get some strawberries and crushed them in her palms. The juice ran through her fingers like wine from a wine press until her fingers were as pink as the sunrise in the early morning.

“See what beautiful hands I have! The strawberry juice runs from them like wine,” said she, and held up her hands for everyone to admire. They were very pink and soft, for she had never done anything but wash them in strawberry juice every morning.

Another one gathered some violets and crushed the flowers in her hands until they smelled like perfume.

“See what beautiful hands I have! They smell like violets in the deep woods in the spring time,” said she, and held up her hands for everyone to admire. They were very soft and white, for she had never done anything but wash them in violets every morning.

The fourth girl did not show her hands but held them in her lap. An old woman came down the road and stopped before the girls. They all showed her their hands and asked her which were the most beautiful. She shook her head at each one and then asked to see the hands of the last girl, who held hers in her lap. The last girl raised her hands timidly for the old woman to see.

“Oh, these hands are clean, indeed,” said the old woman, “but they are hard from toil, these hands have been helping Mother and Father dry the dishes, and sweep the floor, and wash the windows, and weed the garden. These hands have been taking care of the baby, and carrying hot tea to Grandma, and showing little brother how to build his blocks and fly his kite. Yes, these hands have been busy making the house a happy home, full of love and care.”

Then the old woman fumbled in her pocket and brought out a ring set with diamonds, with rubies redder than strawberries, and turquoise bluer than violets.

“Here, wear this ring, my child. You deserve the prize for the most beautiful hands, for they have been the most helpful.”

And the old woman vanished, leaving the four girls still sitting by the brook.