These hands are not worn torn nor abused. The worse these hands have seen would have to be a few hours of shoveling the snow from my driveway on a cold winters day. Protected by the thin and warming layer of cotton, my hands stay as smooth and callous free as a new born.
These hands have been trained to bring care to the elderly, to the weak or to anyone whom seeks it. For I am a certified nurses assistant. You can often see these hands bringing in trays of luke warm food to their patient, gently setting down the train and giving a comforting pat on the back.
These hands have only one scar. This scar bears a constant reminder of being more cautious and think before doing something. You see, this scar was not inflicted by an enemy after an argument, rather it was my own stupidity. Cutting open a box with a dagger, cutting towards myself, I slip, and with the cold 6 inch blade entering my skin I quickly drop it and clench my hand. After this incidence I stopped cutting boxes with a dagger and resort to something safer, like scissors...
"You can often see these hands bringing in trays of luke warm food to their patient, gently setting down the train and giving a comforting pat on the back."
ReplyDeleteExcellent sentence, full of pictures for the reader to imagine and recreating a job and a day in the life.