Her hands held me gently from
the day I took my first 
breath,
Her hands helped to guide me
as I took my first step.
Her hands held me close when
the tears would start to fall,
Her hands were quick to show me that she would take care of
it all….
Her hands were there to brush my hair on straighten a
wayward bow,
Her hands were always there to comfort the hurts that din’t
always show.
Her hands helped hold the stars in place and encouraged me
to reach,
Her hands would clap and cheer and praise when I captured
them at length.
Her hands would also push me, though not down or in harmful
way,
Her hands would punctuate the words , just to do what I say.
Her hands sometimes had to be disciplined to help bend this
young tree,
Her hands would shape and mould me into all that she know I
could be….
Her hands are now twisting with age and years of work,
Her hands now need my gentle touch to rub away the hurt.
Her hands are more beautiful than anything can be,
Her hands are the reason I am me!…
Now can you guess which angel is she…
‘MAA’ and she’s no more than anything in this world to me!
-Nikita Samal
iTech 
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