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Hands of my Elders

Once upon a time there was a Prince who went to his father, the King and said he wished to marry. The King put out a proclamation to his kingdom, inviting the maidens to come to court so his son could find a wife.

Young women from far and wide travelled to the palace to present themselves to the King and Prince. They came, some tall and not so tall, some fair and some dark skinned, each with a uniqueness that couldn't fail to impress the Prince of their beauty. He gazed upon them all yet his heart did not skip a beat.


Towards the end of the second day, a young maiden came in simple dress and a smile that offered her heart. The Prince looked upon her slowly, taking into his eyes, her hair gently swept from her face, her dark brown eyes and like a bee his eyes flew to her hands. 


The Prince turned to his father 'This is my wife' he pronounced.

'Why so my son?' replied the King.

'Because her hands reveal her humility. These are the hands of someone who is not afraid of responsibility, nor of tending to matters, whereas the hands of all the other young maidens were immaculate as if they wore silken gloves from sunrise to dusk'.

The day of the wedding came. The Prince stood with his wife. He cupped her hands and pressed them to his lips. 


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