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My Fathers Hands
by James A. Brandes

Of all the things important to see
Are my Father’s hands and what they mean to me
From the first time I clasped them that I might learn to walk
To later years, as we held hands and talked.

The strength and love he would impart
Gave me a special, warmth of heart.
He always seemed to understand
Felt by a simplest pat from his wonderful hand.

So I pray, we now return to him
The warmth that forever will dwell within
My heart and soul, where it shall forever be
A precious memory carried into eternity.

So, no matter where your father is today
I know it’s safe for me to say
This will serve as a reminder within all hearts
Of the special place our fathers held from the very start.

From that first walk, sometimes in the rain
His strength of love were always the same.
So on this special day we want him to see
We honor him eternally.
James A. Brandes
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