This file includes Hands, Fingers, and Thumbs.
Also see Feet and Shoes, Father Poems and Pretty is as Pretty Does.
Note: Songs about hands, fingers, thumbs


Page Toppers and Quotes

Quotes and Facts

Left-Handers Unite!

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.

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.

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.


(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.

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.

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Page Toppers

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.


(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.


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.

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 'tis so,
Pittypat and Tippytoe!


Page Toppers


(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).

Songs about Thumbs

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Songs about Hands

Songs about Fingers

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