I see your hands,

tough and strong.

Calloused from the labour,

ripped apart by the tools.

I see your sacrifice,

I see your value in the structures,

designs and creations only you can build.

Pride fills my heart as I watch how your hands build us a home,

and provide all that we need.

Then a sorrow creeps in,

as I can’t see my worth-

as I feel useless and unworthy.

As I watch our daughters play,

I realize something I had never seen before.

I see my own hands,

soft and nurturing;

Holding our girls tightly,

preparing our meals,

creating our home,

washing our clothes,

caressing your body,

teaching, reading and loving our toddlers.

I see my own hands wiping away tears,

patching up wounds, attending events

and being the infinite cheerleader.

I realize that my hands too have provided for our family.

That my contribution is just as worthy.