Mommhi's Hands

Oh, how I remember Mommhi's hands.

I remember Mommhi's hands in the garden during those hot summer months.

I remember Mommhi's hands canning that which came from our garden and never picking the flowers -- they have a right to life.

I remember Mommhi's hands scrubbing our house from top to bottom, everything in reach, including me.

I remember Mommhi's hands helping to birth a colt when the mare was too tired. Mommhi knew what it was like to be tired.

I remember Mommhi's hands as she braided our hair.

I remember Mommhi's hands sewing feed sacks to make our clothes, so long ago.

I remember Mommhi's hands holding the Bible at night; Mommhi knew how to quote the Bible when you acted up.

I remember Mommhi's hands hanging the wash on the line, singing those ole time hymns.

I remember Mommhi's hands as she made my children's dance outfits.

I remember Mommhi's hands as she covered her mouth as she laughed out loud.
Oh how, Mommhi loved to laugh.

I remember Mommhi's hands as she made each family member and friends a quilt, so we would always be warmed by her love.

I remember Mommhi's hands clapping loud, and saying, "That's my child, that's my daughter, when the story was finished."

I remember Mommhi's hands patting my back and saying, "Oh little sister, little sister."
I felt her tears on my cheek, as we placed our little boy's body in the earth.

I remember Mommhi's hands always cooking food to give to those who were hungry, even if that meant we went without.

I remember Mommhi's hands during our last visit -- she took my hands into hers and spoke with clarity for the first time in years, saying to me "I do love you, I did the best I could for you. Please, please forgive me."

I remember Mommhi's hands as I held them tight in my hands and I told her "Mommhi, I will remember that you did the best you could for me and that you loved me.
Mommhi, there is nothing to forgive you for, and I love you."

I remember Mommhi's hands feel limp once again, as she slipped back into her world, far, far away from me.
I remember my hands as I held Mommhi's hands -- whispering -- "I love you, Mommhi."

I remember my hands as I pulled the blankets tight around Mommhi, kissing her cheek as my tears fell upon her, caring for Mommhi in the way she had cared for me.

Ragghi Rain Calentine is a member of the Indian Mission United Methodist Church, Millsboro, DE, and founding member of the "Spirit Warrior Sisters." Raggatha Rain Calentine embraces the parallels between Native American heritage and Christianity. Through storytelling, she celebrates her faith in Jesus Christ and works to share the important roles of Native Americans in history and culture.

Copyright 2009 © Ragghi Rain Calentine. Used by Permission. Reproduction granted for use in church worship services. Any further use beyond worship services must be with permission from the author.

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