Praying Hands

Back in the 15th century, in a tiny village near Nuremburg lived a family of 18 children. In order to keep food on the table for them all, the father, a goldsmith, worked almost 18 hours a day at his trade & any other work he could find in the neighbourhood. Despite their seemingly hopeless situation, two of the Albert Durer eldest sons had a dream. They both wanted to pursue their talent for art, but they knew well that their father would never be able financially to send either of them to Nuremburg to study at the Academy.

After many hours of discussion in their crowded bed, the two boys worked out a pact. They would toss a coin & the loser would go down the mines to work. His earnings would support the other while he attended the Academy. Then, when the winner finished at the Academy four years later, he would support the other brother with sales of his work, or, if necessary, work down the mines also. The toss of the coin sent Albrecht Durer Jnr. to the Academy & his brother to the mine. For four years he (Albert) supported his brother whose work was an immediate sensation. His etchings, woodcuts & oils were far better than most of his professors! By the time he left he was earning considerable fees for his commissioned works.

On his return to the village, a celebration feast was held & as the meal drew to a close Albrecht, from the place of honour at the top table, toasted his brother & his closing words were: “Now Albert, blessed brother of mine, now it is your turn. Now you go to Nuremburg to pursue your dream & I will take care of you.”

Albert, with everyone watching him & tears streaming down his face, held his hands close to his chest & said softly, “Look, look what four years in the mines have done to my hands. The bones in every finger have been smashed at least once & lately I have been suffering so badly from arthritis that my right hand cannot even hold a glass to return your toast, much less make the delicate lines on parchment or canvas with a brush or pen. No brother, for me it is too late”.

More than 450 year has passed & Albrecht’s works in many genres are all over the world, but perhaps you are only familiar with one. The one he painstakingly drew of his brother’s abused hands, with the palms together & the thin broken stretching skywards – he simply called it HANDS.

But the entire world opened their hearts to his great masterpiece & renamed his tribute of love: “The Praying Hands’. May it be a reminder to us, if we need one, that no one… no one… ever makes it alone.