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The Hand
Mae Ellen, a third grade teacher, asked the children in her classroom to draw a picture of something they were thankful for. She thought of how little these children from poor neighborhoods actually had to be thankful for. She was certain that most of them would draw pictures of food on their table, a pet, a toy or even their parents.
The teacher was taken aback with the picture Douglas handed in.
Douglas had drawn a simple picture showing only a hand. But whose hand was this?
Her class was captivated by the abstract image. “I think it must be the hand of God that brings us food,” said one child.
“A farmer” said another child “because farmers grow food.”
When the children were back at work with their projects, Ms. Ellen bent over Douglas’s desk and asked, “Whose hand have you drawn?”
“It’s your hand, Ms. Ellen,” he muttered. At that moment, she recalled that at recess she frequently took Douglas, a scrubby forlorn child, by the hand. She often did this with several of the children. This simple act must have meant so much to Douglas. Perhaps this was everyone’s wish, not for material things but for the chance, in whatever small way, to experience the caring of others.
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The Hand
