These Hands

A week and a half ago, I spent some time in the afternoon (after finishing my shift at the reception desk and attending resident care conferences) cutting up some bread. 
 
We had received a large donation of day-old Panera breads of all kinds: sour dough, cinnamon-sugar glazed, and more.  After advertising it to our staff (for them to help themselves) and taking some for our kitchen’s use, there was still quite a bit left.  Two viable options (besides just sticking it all in the freezer) arose for me.  Croutons and bread pudding could both be made out of leftover bread.  I ended up making some of each, using sour dough loafs for the former and cinnamon-sugar glazed bagels for the latter. 
 
Unfortunately, though, the project left a tender blister on the forefinger of my left hand.  (Yes; I am a lefty.)  Finally, I noticed this morning that it has really started to heal.  The now crusty area is actually shrinking a little.  It sure was sore for a while, though!
 
I think of this after hearing and reflecting upon the gospel reading this Sunday as well as a poem that was shared from a funeral of a Sister we know.  The poem was about “The Hands of a Sister.”  It chronicled some of the different types of work religious Sisters have traditionally done: forming and teaching little children, caring for the sick, etc. 
 
Some of the deeds described there were not ones that I am called to engage in.  Nonetheless, it made me think about my hands and what they do on a daily basis.  I pray they may always serve in a way pleasing to Our Lord.
 
I think this Sunday’s gospel (about the servants entrusted with varying amounts of money) fits with this reflection, also.  Like these servants, each of us will be called to give an account for how we used what was given to us, what our “hands” did with the gifts we received. 
 
I hope and pray that, like the first two servants, at the end of our lives, each of us will have a good return to show on God’s investment in us.
 
However, as I write this, I can’t help but think about St. Therese of Lisiuex’s reflection on empty hands: “In the evening of life I shall appear before you with empty hands, for I am not asking you, Lord, to count my works.” 
 
Her humble, trusting attitude is something for us to really think about and seek to emulate. 
 
While my hands are engaged in the humble work of cutting up old bread, washing out a resident’s support socks, or taking someone’s temperature, my eyes (inspired by the Little Flower) can be fixed in trust on Jesus.

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