My Hands

My Hands An old man, probably some ninety plus years, sat feebly on the park bench . He didn't move, just sat with his head down staring at his hands. When I sat down beside him he didn't acknowledge my presence and the longer I sat I wondered if he was ok. Finally, not really wanting to disturb him but wanting to check on him at the same time, I asked him if he was ok. He raised his head and looked at me and smiled. Yes, I'm fine, thank you for asking, he said in a clear strong voice. I didn't mean to disturb you ..... but you were just sitting here staring at your hands and I wanted to make sure you were ok I explained to him. Have you ever looked at your hands he asked. I mean really looked at your hands ? I slowly opened my hands and stared down at them. I turned them over, palms up and then palms down. No, I guess I had never really looked at my hands as I tried to figure out the point he was making. Then he smiled and related this story: Stop an...