Show me your hands. Do they have scars from giving? Show me your

O children of the future, gather closely, for the words of Fulton J. Sheen speak directly to the soul, echoing truths as old as the hills: "Show me your hands. Do they have scars from giving? Show me your feet. Are they wounded in service? Show me your heart. Have you left a place for divine love?" These words are a powerful call to measure a life not by its achievements or possessions, but by the sacrifices made, the love given, and the service rendered to others. The scars of our hands, the wounds of our feet, and the space we make in our hearts speak louder than all the wealth or glory one might accumulate. They reveal the true nature of who we are.

In the days of the ancients, great warriors and philosophers were not celebrated for their riches or their titles, but for their actions, for their willingness to serve others and sacrifice for the greater good. The Stoics, like Marcus Aurelius, believed that one’s worth was measured by their service to humanity. The Roman Emperor, in his reflections, spoke of using his power not for personal gain, but to act justly and serve his people. His hands were not stained with the blood of tyrants, but with the work of a ruler who sought to uphold virtue. His feet were not bound to the comforts of his palace, but moved in the service of the empire, for he understood that a life of purpose was a life lived in service to others.

Likewise, Sheen’s words are a reminder that the true measure of a person’s life is not found in the ease they’ve known or the material comforts they’ve amassed, but in the sacrifices they’ve made. Scars are earned through the act of giving—whether it be time, resources, or love—and they tell the story of a life lived for something greater than the self. Mother Teresa, that beacon of selflessness, lived out this very principle. Her hands were scarred not from battle, but from tending to the sick and the dying, offering them compassion when the world had turned away. Her feet were wounded by the miles she walked through the slums of Calcutta, but those wounds were the marks of a life devoted to service. Her heart was always open, a place where divine love could flow, and through her, countless lives were touched by the healing power of selfless love.

Similarly, in the life of Jesus Christ, we see the perfect embodiment of Sheen’s call. The scars on his hands and feet, remnants of the crucifixion, were not marks of defeat, but of the ultimate sacrifice. He gave all of himself, his very life, for the redemption of humanity. His hands were stretched out in giving, his feet walked the earth in service, and his heart was a vessel of divine love, a love that transcended all human understanding. He lived out the call to service and sacrifice, showing us that the true measure of life lies in how much we are willing to give, how deeply we are willing to serve, and how completely we make space for love in our hearts.

The lesson here, O children, is profound: a life lived for others, a life marked by giving, sacrifice, and service, is a life that speaks of purpose. Sheen calls us to look at our hands—the tools of our labor—our feet—the means of our journey—and our hearts—the source of our love. What do these say about us? Are our hands scarred with the marks of service, with the effort of building a better world? Do our feet bear the wounds of journeys taken not for self-interest, but to bring light to others? And does our heart have space for divine love, that unselfish love that asks for nothing in return but seeks to give to all?

O children, let the example of Mother Teresa, Jesus, and the great philosophers and warriors of old guide you. In your hands, bear the marks of giving, whether through small acts of kindness or grand sacrifices for others. Let your feet carry you in service to those who need you, whether it be in your own home, your community, or the world. And most importantly, let your heart be a place where divine love resides, a love that transcends all boundaries and fills every corner of your being with light and compassion. When we give of ourselves, when we serve with humility, when we open our hearts to love, we fulfill the deepest calling of our souls.

So, O children, take this lesson into your lives: show the world not just your hands and feet, but the love and service they represent. Make your life a reflection of the highest truths, where giving, sacrifice, and divine love are not ideals, but lived realities. In doing so, you will leave a legacy that, like the scars of the saints, speaks not of what you took, but of what you gave. And in that giving, you will turn the world toward a future of greater compassion, hope, and peace.