The Touching Story Behind This Small Praying Hands Tattoo Will Make You Cry

Small Praying Hands Tattoo

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 the elder children, Albrecht and Albert, 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.

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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.

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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.”

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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, water colors, 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.” The next time you see a copy of that touching creation, take a second look. Let it be your reminder, that no one – no one – ever makes it alone!It is impossible to know from external appearances what kinds of interior burdens people carry with them throughout life. In fact, if we knew the inside story of most people’s lives, we would gain a deep reverence for them and a respect for their perseverance through the difficulties that only they have experienced and that only they know.

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One such example is of the famous German Renaissance artist, Albrecht Dürer (1471-1528) and his younger brother Albert, whose inner burdens were hidden to all but a few during their lifetimes. It is a story of how one person’s suffering can transform another and even have an extraordinary effect on the world.

Both boys wanted to be artists, but their parents could not afford to send the pair of them to the academy (art school) as they desired. In fact, it was unlikely that they could even afford to send

One night the two brothers made a pact. They would toss a coin, and the loser of the coin toss would go to work in the coal mines near their home in order to support his brother during his years of study.

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Moral Stories: The Praying Hands

Four years after that, they would reverse roles: the brother who went to school would then be able to work and make money and would support the other brother as the latter studied and pursued his dreams of becoming an artist.

As providence would have it, Albrecht won the coin toss and spent four years in the academy learning and applying his trade. He proved to be something of a prodigy at drawing, painting, and woodcutting, even surpassing his teachers in artistic ability.

When four years passed and it came time to send Albrecht’s younger brother to school, poor Albert broke down sobbing. He showed his brother his working hands that had been damaged during the previous four years.

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He told Albrecht that every bone in his hands had been broken at least once by the hard labor in the coal mines. His hands were rough, disfigured, and arthritic. It was now impossible for him to do the fine and delicate work of an artist.

It is said that Albrecht was so moved by his brother’s sacrifice that he asked Albert to pose in prayer for him. He then drew the famous ink and pencil sketch of the “Praying Hands” as a model for an altarpiece he had been commissioned to create for a patron.

Praying

The simple drawing, which contains in itself the silent story of brotherly love, sacrifice, and generosity, has become a favorite of Christians for generations and is still seen today hanging on the walls of many Christian homes as a reminder of our need to pray.

The Prayer Hand

It is also a reminder that the greatest sacrifices are often the most hidden – and the most pleasing in the eyes of God. Albert’s four years of sacrifice for his older brother had an enormous spiritual effect: he gave the world the gift of one of the greatest artists who ever lived.

It takes a truly selfless spirit to make silent sacrifices for others, especially for those who will never recognize our generous gift or thank us for the personal cost of our sacrifice.

For these instances the Lord has provided a beatitude: “Blessed are the meek; for they shall inherit the earth” (Matthew 5:5). The Lord promises an

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Choose someone today to receive your gift of time, talent, treasure, or just the gift of your presence. Ask for nothing in return. Seek no thanks or emotional recompense. Give for the sake of giving.When we were little, my sister and I would take turns putting my mother's ivory-colored slip on our heads. To us, the polyester undergarment was like Mary's veil, but also like the Bionic Woman's blonde locks, which we didn't have.

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Either way, it felt glorious to wear that slip like a wig. Tucking the elastic of the waistband behind my ears and pressing my two palms together in the middle of my chest in prayer, I would ask, Do I look like Mary? I would get annoyed when my sister pulled the slip off my head to present her version and ask the same question. Wisely, my mother never adjudicated.

Later, I remember the strict instructions of an elderly Salesian nun who prepped my second-grade class for Communion. She put her hands together near the clunky silver cross on her chest, showing us how we would walk up the aisle. The praying hands were part of the show, the physical proof that we were holy and perfect, good enough to welcome the Lord, and definitely not what we would become one day, that is, hormonal and prone to lying like everyone else.

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Praying hands are everywhere. In yoga classes and in most religions, but maybe — and yes, I am biased here — maybe especially in Catholicism. Think of all those pleading hands in centuries-old paintings and statues and the way we all still kneel after Communion, heads down and hands clasped, reckoning with our faulty selves.

Are we just mimicking each other? In our Catholic milieu, are praying hands just a habit picked up after so many years of going to Mass? A

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