Home Hands and Feet Index

This file includes Hands and Fingers (including thumb sucking), Feet and Toes and Shoes (including shoe tying). Also see Father Poems and Pretty Is as Pretty Does.

Hands and Fingers

Page Toppers

Left-Handers Unite!

Pat-a-Cake, Pat-a-Cake

(Vicki Kuyper)

Ten tiny little fingers that always want to play,
That never stop exploring the wonder of today.
Ten tiny little fingers that from the very start,
Will reach out to tomorrow, yet always hold your heart.

Thumb-Sucker

(Shel Silverstein)

Oh, the thumb-sucker's thumb
May look wrinkled and wet
And withered and white as the snow,
But the taste of the a thumb
Is the sweetest taste yet
(As only we thumb-suckers know).

Little Hands

My little hands play patty-cake
They peek-a-boo and wave...
They catch me while I learn to walk
And splash me as I bathe...

My little hands reach up to you
For hugs before I sleep...
And fold together when I pray
The Lord my soul to keep...

My little hands are tiny now
But yours will serve to guide me...
And when I'm grown I'll still reach out
And know you're right beside me.

My Handprints

Sometimes you get discouraged
Because I am very small
And always leave my fingerprints
On furniture and walls.

But everyday I'm growing...
I'll be all grown-up someday,
And all the tiny fingerprints
Will surely fade away.

So here's a real hand print
Just so you can recall,
Exactly how my fingers looked
When I was very small.

Tiny Handprints

Tiny hands grow so fast
Their awkward groping soon will clasp
A ball, a book, a sweetheart's hand
A diploma, briefcase, wedding band.

Tiny hand prints grow so strong
It doesn't take them very long
To snap a shirt, to paint, to draw
To labor hard, to drive a car.

Tiny hand prints grow to be
A person that is quite unique
A wonderful mix of so many things
With his own feelings, thoughts and dreams.

Tiny hand prints grow to rely
On his parents to bring him up just right
His parents pray that when he's grown
He'll say their job has been well done.

Tiny hand prints are ours to love
The sweetest gift from God above
A miracle that never is surpassed
How sad they grow up way to fast.

Fingerprints

Sometimes you get discouraged
Because I am so small
And always get my fingerprints
On furniture and wall.

But here's a final fingerprint
Just so you will remember
Exactly how my fingers looked
In 1972...December.

These Little Hands

These little hands can wave hello
Or put smudges on the wall.
They can fold in prayer, throw a kiss,
Or reach up and say "So tall!"
They will clasp your hand for an autumn stroll,
Or shape a dinosaur from clay,
But most of all, they will stay with you
When I'm grown and far away.

My Hand Can Hold

(Modwena Sedgwick)

My hand can't hold the moonlight.
Can yours?
My hand can't hold a sunbeam.
It's gone
When I carry it indoors.

My hand can't hold the rushing wind
From the moors.
My hand can't hold night silence
So still.
But my hand can hold yours.

This is to remind you
When I have grown so tall
That once I was quite little
And my hands were very small.

Fingerprints

(Wendy Lyn )

I know you get discouraged
Because I am so small
And always leave my fingerprints
On furniture and walls.

But everyday I'm growing
I'll be all grown-up someday,
And all the smudgies that I did
Will surely fade away.

So here's another bunch of them
Just so you can recall
Exactly how my fingers looked
When I was very small.

another Hand Poem

The promise of tomorrow
And the hope of dreams come true,
A reminder of the childhood
That is still a part of you.

The wonder of a miracle
From which this love began
There is so much found
In the touch of a child's hand.

(Put on a page with a family photo and handprint cut outs of mother, father and baby overlapped)

Handprint Page Ideas

Handprint Poems

You wash my prints from walls and doors,
For I am not careful where I play.
But here is a print you'll want to keep.
It's made for you this Mother's Day.

Hands

(Grace Noll Crowell)

My hand is large and his is small,
And there is nothing on earth at all
More important than the task
That lies ahead of me, I ask
For wisdom, Lord, that I may lead
This child aright; his every need
Depends on me. Be Thou my guide
That I, in walking by his side,
May choose the right paths for his feet.
The days are swift, the years are fleet,
Mark me alert in deed and word
As we go forward, blessed Lord:
His precious clinging hand in mine,
With always, Lord, my hand in Thine.

(Carolyn Woodie suggests using this poem with a closeup picture of a father's hand holding a newborn's hand.)

What is beauty as it pertains to hands?

Perhaps this question will never be answered in a way to satisfy everybody. Probably there cannot be a standard of beauty for hands, because hands will always be judged by what they have done. It is so with the artist' s hands. It is so with a mother's hands. Somebody once wrote with deep meaning of his mother's hands:

Such beautiful, beautiful hands!
They're neither white nor small;
And you, I know, would scarcely think
That they are fair at all.

I've looked on hands whose form and hue
A sculptor's dream might be;
Yet are those aged, wrinkled hands
More beautiful to me.

Ah, how good it feels! The hand of an old friend. (Henry Wadsworth Longfellow)

Beautiful Hands

(from Capper's Weekly 1982)

"Beautiful hand," the young man said as he pledged his love that spring.
He kissed each finger tenderly; on one, he placed a ring.
"Beautiful hands, my sweet young bride!" He laughed as he brushed the soil
that clung to her hands from the garden plot where she'd spent long hours of toil.

"Beautiful hands, my darling wife, like yours, my precious pearl,"
he whispered softly, holding close his new-born baby girl.
The years went by, the work was hard. The children grew and wed.
"I'm growing old, with ugly hands," his aging bride now said.

"Beautiful hands," he teased, as she kneaded their daily bread
and worked about the kitchen 'til time to go to bed.
Thru summer, fall and winter snow, she worked beside her man.
She milked and mowed, baked and cleaned. She always said, "I can."
And then one night in early spring an angel softly said,
"It's time we took you home, my dear." That morning she was dead.

"Beautiful hands, my beautiful bride," he said as he place a rose
in the fingers of those work-worn hands folded now in repose.
He kissed each gnarled knuckle and softly shed his tears
for his beautiful bride and her beautiful hands, and all those beautiful years.

Your Hand

When my world falls down around me,
And the ground is sinking sand;
When peace can't be found on this earth,
I reach out for your hand.

Then when your hand wraps 'round my own,
A strength pours from your soul;
It brings me to a quiet calm,
Till once again I'm whole.

A peace beyond all reason,
A rest there in your touch;
Something in your quiet words,
My heart yearns for so much.

If I but rest my worries,
Upon your shoulder there;
The strength that pours forth from your soul,
Will wash away each care.

Like a cool, sweet taste of water,
For a tired and thirsty man;
My heart finds peace, my soul is calm,
When I reach out for your hand.

from Pittypat and Tippytoe

(Eugene Field)

All day long they come and go...
Pittypat and Tippytoe;
Footprints up and down the hall,
Playthings scattered on the floor,
Finger-marks along the wall,
Tell-tale smudges on the door...
By these presents you shall know
Pittypat and Tippytoe.

Oh the thousand worrying things
Every day recurrent brings!
Hands to scrub and hair to brush,
Search for playthings gone amiss,

Many a wee complaint to hush,
Many a little bump to kiss;
Life seems one vain, fleeting show
To Pittypat and Tippytoe!

On the floor and down the hall,
Rudely smutched upon the wall,
There are proofs in every kind
Of the havoc they have wrought,
And upon my heart you 'd find
Just such trade-marks, if you sought;
Oh, how glad I am 't is so,
Pittypat and Tippytoe!

Feet and Toes

Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair. (Kahlil Gibran)

Page Toppers

  • 1,2,3,4 I can Walk along the floor
  • Alive and Kicking
  • A baby is cuddles and tickles on toes
  • Baby Steps
  • Barefoot in the Park
  • Barefootin'
  • Catch me if you Can
  • Dancin' Feet
  • Foot Loose and Fancy Free
  • Get Around...Get Around...I Get Around...
  • I Walk the Line (learning to walk)
  • The journey begins with a single step
  • Making Tracks, No Turning Back (baby walking)
  • My Little Piggies
  • On your mark, get set, go
    (first steps)
  • One Step at a Time
  • Our family has grown by two feet
  • The pitter patter of little feet
  • Playing Footsie
  • Put your best foot forward
  • Run...Run Away (from Mom)
  • Shoe Business
  • Step by Step
  • A Stumble Is Not a Fall
  • Sweet Little Feet
  • Ten Tiny Fingers and Toes
  • These Feet Were Made for Walkin'
  • These Foot's were made for Eatin'
  • This little pig went to the market
  • This little Piggy
  • This little Piggy went night night
  • Too busy for the grass to grow under our feet
  • Walk a mile in another man's shoes
  • Yep, ten toes!

Little Feet

Two little feet, ten little toes
Leave their impressions today
Soon they will wear two little shoes
And be running an jumping at play.
Two little feet, too little time
Before they are walking to school...
Kicking a rock or skipping a rope
Wading a puddle or jumping a pool.
Two little feet, one little child
Will soon go their own way
But footprints in my mind recall
They stood here yesterday.

My Footprints

Someday I'll jump through puddles,
take a stroll or run a race.
Someday I'll walk across the street
or maybe walk in space.
Someday I'll scale a mountain
or I'll join a ballet corps.
Someday I'll walk a tightrope
or explore the ocean floor.
Someday these feet will do some things
that only heaven knows,
but for today they're happy,
just to wiggle all their toes!

My Toe

(Felice Holman)

My toe
is only
a little part of me
and
way
down
T
H
E
R
E

So
why
should I care
if it should hurt me?

It certainly
would not be
very trying
would it?
Then why
am I
crying?

Baby Feet

(Michelle - used with permission)

Baby feet, baby feet Precious little baby feet
Small and tender With ten little toes
Clad in booties With ribbons and bows
Baby feet, baby feet Everyone loves baby feet

People

Some people come into our lives and quickly go.
Some people move our souls to dance.
They awaken us to understanding
with the passing whisper of their wisdom.
Some people make the sky more beautiful to gaze upon.
They stay in our lives for a while,
leave footprints on our hearts,
and we are never, ever the same.

We walk the path of the ancient ones,
soon the shadows of our footprints the dream ones will walk.
Will our footprints be deep enough to follow
or will the winds erase them for all time.

Shoes

All you really need is the right pair of shoes.

If the shoe fits...

On Shoe Tying

I know how to tie my shoe,
You take the loop and push it through.
It's very hard to make it stay,
Because my thumb gets in the way!

The Old Woman Who Lived In A Shoe

There was an old woman, she liv'd in a shoe,
She had so many children she didn't know what to do.
She gave them some broth without any bread,
She whipt them all soundly and put them to bed.

Choosing Shoes

(Frida Wolfe)

New shoes, new shoes,
Red and pink and blue shoes.
Tell me, what would you choose,
If they'd let us buy?

Buckle shoes, bow shoes,
Pretty pointy-toe shoes,
Strappy, cappy low shoes;
Let's have some to try.

Bright shoes, white shoes,
Dandy-dance-by-night shoes,
Perhaps-a-little-tight shoes,
Like some? So would I.

BUT
Flat shoes, fat shoes,
Stump-along-like-that shoes,
Wipe-them-on-the-mat shoes,
That's the sort they'll buy.

Grandma's Shoes

When I was very little,
All the Grandmas that I knew.
All walked around this big old world,
In ugly grandma shoes.

You know the ones I speak of,
Those black clunky heeled kind.
They just looked so very awful,
That it weighed upon my mind.

For I knew, when I grew old,
I'd have to wear those shoes.
I'd think of that, from time to time,
It seemed like such bad news.

I never was a rebel,
I wore saddle shoes to school.
And next came ballerinas,
Then the sandals, pretty cool.

And then came spikes with pointed toes,
Then platforms very tall.
As each new fashion came along,
I wore them, one and all.

But always in the distance,
Looming in my future, there.
Was that awful pair of ugly shoes,
The kind that Grandmas wear.

I eventually got married,
When our kids grew up and left.
And their children came along,
I knew I was a Grandma.

And the time was drawing near,
When those clunky, black,
Old lace up shoes,
Was what I'd have to wear.

How would I do my gardening,
Or take my morning hike?
I couldn't even think about,
How I would ride my bike!

But fashion kept evolving,
And one day I realized.
That the shape of things to come,
Was changing, right before my eyes.

And now, when I go shopping,
What I see fills me with glee.
For in my jeans and Reeboks,
I'm as comfy as can be.

And I look at all these teenage girls,
And there, upon their feet,
Are clunky, black, old Grandma shoes,
And they really think they're neat.