These calluses are my work gloves, the ones my skin has made in the years of toil. Yet they are only a small fraction of my story, for when I look upon the good work I've done with them, that's the lion's share.
These callused hands are my pride and joy, they tell the tales of my time in nature, of the work I've done help others. They are the hands of one who works for joy in every season. I wish for nothing more than this gift of living and to see the wrinkles come as my wisdom does, as I mature into a person others look to for help.
These calluses upon your hands are a love story, for they tell of the strength of your heart and how you worked so very had to make life good.