By Amanda Cleary Eastep

As a child, my grandmother worked in the truck patches of vegetables her family grew on their rented farm in Southern Illinois. Whether from planting or harvesting or picking off bugs to drop into buckets of kerosene, the calluses that lined her palms like small pebbles were a source of pride.

She taught me to appreciate the earth, not necessarily as a planet in danger but as that small patch for which I am personally responsible.

“Give her of the fruit of her hands; and let her own works praise her in the gates.” Proverbs 31:31 (King James Version)

When my daughter decided to take photos of my hands engaging in some activity representative of who I am, the first thought was my hands over the keyboard or holding a pen and notebook. But I happened to be in the garden that day, and having my hands in dirt is one of my greatest joys.

(Photos by Megan, taken on my old Olympus OM-10)