The Praying
Hands
Back in the fifteenth century, in
a tiny village near Nuremberg, lived a family with eighteen children. Eighteen!
In order merely to keep food on the table for this mob, the father and head of
the household, a goldsmith by profession, worked almost eighteen hours a day at
his trade and any other paying chore he could find in the neighborhood. Despite
their seemingly hopeless condition, two of Albrecht Durer the Elder's children
had a dream. They both wanted to pursue their talent for art, but they knew full
well that their father would never be financially able to send either of them
to Nuremberg to study at the Academy. After many long discussions
at night in their crowded bed, the two boys finally worked out a pact. They would
toss a coin. The loser would go down into the nearby mines and, with his earnings,
support his brother while he attended the academy. Then, when that brother who
won the toss completed his studies, in four years, he would support the other
brother at the academy, either with sales of his artwork or, if necessary, also
by laboring in the mines. They tossed a coin on a Sunday
morning after church. Albrecht Durer won the toss and went off to Nuremberg. Albert
went down into the dangerous mines and, for the next four years, financed his
brother, whose work at the academy was almost an immediate sensation. Albrecht's
etchings, his woodcuts, and his oils were far better than those of most of his
professors, and by the time he graduated, he was beginning to earn considerable
fees for his commissioned works. When the young artist
returned to his village, the Durer family held a festive dinner on their lawn
to celebrate Albrecht's triumphant homecoming. After a long and memorable meal,
punctuated with music and laughter, Albrecht rose from his honored position at
the head of the table to drink a toast to his beloved brother for the years of
sacrifice that had enabled Albrecht to fulfill his ambition. His closing words
were, "And now, Albert, blessed brother of mine, now it is your turn. Now
you can go to Nuremberg to pursue your dream, and I will take care of you."
All heads turned in eager expectation to the far end of
the table where Albert sat, tears streaming down his pale face, shaking his lowered
head from side to side while he sobbed and repeated, over and over, "No ...no
...no ...no." Finally, Albert rose and wiped the tears
from his cheeks. He glanced down the long table at the faces he loved, and then,
holding his hands close to his right cheek, he said softly, "No, brother.
I cannot go to Nuremberg. It is too late for me. Look ... look what four years
in the mines have done to my hands! The bones in every finger have been smashed
at least once, and lately I have been suffering from arthritis so badly in my
right hand that I cannot even hold a glass to return your toast, much less make
delicate lines on parchment or canvas with a pen or a brush. No, brother ... for
me it is too late." More than 450 years have passed.
By now, Albrecht Durer's hundreds of masterful portraits, pen and silver-point
sketches, watercolors, charcoals, woodcuts, and copper engravings hang in every
great museum in the world, but the odds are great that you, like most people,
are familiar with only one of Albrecht Durer's works. More than merely being familiar
with it, you very well may have a reproduction hanging in your home or office.
One day, to pay homage to Albert for all that he had sacrificed,
Albrecht Durer painstakingly drew his brother's abused hands with palms together
and thin fingers stretched skyward. He called his powerful drawing simply "Hands,"
but the entire world almost immediately opened their hearts to his great masterpiece
and renamed his tribute of love "The Praying Hands." Og
Mandino Links to other Catholic
Youth Ministry programs. Our Youth
Ministry Resources and gospel reflections.
Rebeccas Community Youth
Ministry Programs. |