I was painstakingly looking at all the pictures in the children’s section, and as I got to the second picture, something immediately crossed my mind when I saw those two hands soiled with paint stains. I heard a distinct voice thunder within: IT’S IN YOUR HANDS! What are in your hands that’s special? Paint stains? No, they’re not mere paint stains: they’re tools to repair lives. Do you know what my big brother always says? “Life is not fair, it has never been, but right within your hands are paints to change its colour.”
Those dirty paint stains are our weaknesses, they define us. Do you know what? The picture suggests art, and in art no mistakes are lethal; they are part of our beauty in art. So are your weaknesses: they define you! And they are part of your beauty, your uniqueness.
Your destiny is in your own hands. Check your hands and, you’ll find the tools to make your life a blissful one.
The event I remembered was exactly three years ago. Mum travelled for a course overseas. The one last assignment she gave dad was to nurture our grandmother’s parting gift for her – her flowers. But Dad doesn’t like flowers, so he was not faithful to tendering it, which is just like when we are not at times frank with ourselves and school work. But Dad loves Mum and he never really wants her to cry. After a few months of Dad’s neglect, Mum’s flower began to wither and turn yellow.
On one afternoon, Dad fidgeted after a phone call with Mum. We thought Mum was sick where she was, but she was pretty much fine; she would be returning to us in about three weeks. Dad ought to be happy, but he knew what it means to our home if Mum’s flower died before she got back. Dad was disturbed, for he didn’t deign to nurture Mum’s flowers and he didn’t want to disappoint her. The flower means a lot to Mum. Her own mother tendered it before she died, and she literally willed her to raise it. And so, it is like a connection between them. Mum remembers our grandmother’s love for nature whenever she waters it. After her children and husband, one more thing that Mum treasures more is her colourful flower with pleasant petals.
Dad was pensive, and right after that phone call, he began to water the flowers. Morning and night, he didn’t miss a day. On the twenty-fifth day, when Mum arrived, the flower had blossomed like a rose in season. Mum returned, hugged us and Dad; she smelt the flower’s nectar and we were all happy once more. If Mum’s flower can bloom again within twenty-five days of Dad’s touch, you can flourish and shine again no matter how worse you have been. You can paint your life again to your taste if you wish. Just like Dad, use your hands and you’ll see wonders in your challenges.
You have more hope than Mum’s flower! You have what will change your life within your hands. Look critically, and you will find out, like Mum’s flowers were in Dad’s hand, that your own happiness, your own destiny, is in your hands.