This book was inspired by the quotation "The hand that rocks the cradle rules the world".

This moved me into resurrecting my drawing pencils from the mothballs and doggedly drawing hands - my mother's hands, performing typical domestic chores and evolving in stages to match my chronological progression from babyhood, childhood, to adulthood, culminating with a drawing of her deceased hands in repose underneath a glass coffin. One can say, based on these illustrations, that this book is solely meant for daughters who could identify with the author as far as their relationship with their mothers is concerned. Although this could be construed this way, the author simply wants to focus on and amplify the virtuous role a mother plays in everyone's life whether they be a son or a daughter.

Through the misty haze of the distant past, I began to watch my mother's hands: dainty yet firm and strong, gentle usually but forceful when they need to be, as they go about:

Nursing a cut, stirring a pot, washing my socks, curling my locks, mending a tear, stroking my hair, holding my hand as I struggled to stand, doing the chores everyone abhors, but making things fun as only Moms can.

My afterthought:

The part of the quotation that declares quite unabashedly that a mother's hands "rule the world " may strike certain people as controversial. My take is that this assumption is predicated on the fact that those who rise to positions of power and leadership were once little helpless babies dependent on their mothers for their survival and sustenance. Having said that, even those people that represent the majority (the author included), who haven't attained the lofty sometimes vertiginous heights of greatness, prestige, and prominence can attribute whatever they have accomplished in life to the reality that they were given birth, nourishment, and nurture by their mothers and thus offered a chance to live their lives.

While not all mothers are worthy of being glorified and some of them may even "collide not click" with their children, still they constitute a small minority and will not be discussed here.

For now, let's just raise our celebratory, albeit, imaginary champagne glasses to honor all mothers whether living, expectant, or deceased and with one resounding voice say: Attention all Mothers! YOU HAVE THE MOST BEAUTIFUL HANDS IN THE WORLD!