By Scott Shephard
When I was a child, I was fascinated by the hands of adults. I especially remember those of my dad and also of my grandma, Ida, who lived next door. Ida’s hands had character and, if I had asked, had stories to tell. My fascination with hands continues and I am drawn to glance at hands of “older” people. But now I am one of those people, though I am less fascinated than amazed by how I got to be as old as I am.
Today’s photo offers a chance for comparison and contrast. You may have guessed that one hand is my own. The other belongs to our youngest granddaughter, Maggie. Both hands no doubt have stories to tell . . . .
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