Have you ever looked at a farmer’s hands?
There are likely to be a few nicks and bunps
They are rougher and stronger
Than your hands probably are
Even through gloves
They work, till, lift, drive
Haul, carry, sow and reap
They pat the dog and the horse affectionately
They show the children the wonders
Of growing life, plant and animal
They pray for rain
And they reach out to catch welcome drops
When they fall to quench the cracked, parched earth.
They hold tools
Some of which were held by their fathers’ hands
They comfort and caress
Those who love them.
I once saw a skittish horse
Calmed by the mere touch of a farmer’s hand
And knew that his hand contained magic.
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