These Hands

She holds her head proud
She walks tall
She tilts her chin in defiance
She refuses to talk when she's mad

Today, she walked by me
Eyes blinking
Chin on her chest
Eyes on the floor

I followed
Found her willowy self
Scrunched in the corner
Sobbing into her arms

I sat down beside her
Rubbed her back
"I know it's been hard
You have what it takes"

"I don't care," she spat
"I've tried to change
No one sees
So I'm not going to try"

"Oh, honey," I said
"You can't change yesterday
But you always have a choice
Make a good one"

"No! I don't care
What happens to me
I'm done"
She shrugged off my hand

"But I do care
You're smart
Beautiful and talented
You can do this"

A few minutes after
I left her alone
She emerged
Head up proudly

She put on her shoes
I walked her to school
Told her she made me proud
She walked tall and smiled

This afternoon
Kneading bread dough
I noticed my hands
Stared at them in awe

How does God see fit
To use these hands?