She rubbed her hands together, feeling the warmth spread through her fingers. It was a habit that had sprung long ago, before anyone had ever seen potential in her, in fact, nearly no one even knew of her love.
As she rubbed those hands together, the idea became more than just an inkling. It started to form into a finished piece... A vision in her active mind. She stopped rubbing and grabbed the nearest pencil and any old scrap of paper she could find. It didn't matter what her preliminary sketch landed on, as long as it was set down on something, somewhere.
The idea started to come to life. Soon paint was in hand being swept onto the canvas. Several days flew by as daily chores and mothering took priority. But in any moment of calm, colors would be added. Soon the simple idea became something of great beauty and purpose.
Her hands came together again, this time they moved to the rhythm of her heart as a prayer poured from her lips. Her gaze never leaving the painting, she spoke the words of gratitude that she did not dare keep to herself.