Soft and tender while trying to heal the broken skin, yet hard and firm when I broke a rule. your hands, warm and kind healed my broken hearts by a simple squeeze of the hand and a pat on the back. As time when on your hands aged with you. Now frail forms they still glisten with their fulfilled past. Hours of service and years of love worn into them. Your hands have moved mountains of guilt and aided in the crossing rivers of sorrow. They may rest now with you but their impact is forever in the lives they touched.
~Olivia Paxton
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