Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, J.R.R.
Tolkien does. Nor do I own the song by Nickel Creek, which is called "The
Hand Song"
That's how He hurt his Hand
By Katelyn J. R.
The boy only wanted to give mother something
And all of her roses had bloomed
Looking at him as he came rushing in with them
Knowing her roses were doomed.
Frodo Baggins paused outside his home thinking quickly. Today was his mother's birthday and he wanted to give her something special even though it was not a birthday custom among hobbits. His round sapphire blue eyes landed on a bush of beautiful red roses. Perfect! He bent down to pick out the loveliest one.
Inside the hobbit hole his mother Primula Baggins watched him smiling. Here little boy was growing up so fast and always wanted to make her smile. She saw him stoop and picked one of her favorite flowers and her smile faded only for a moment. He was only trying to make her happy.
Frodo closed a small hand around the rose and jerked it back in pain. A thorn was buried in the center of his palm.
All she could see were some thorns buried deep
And the tears that he cried as she tended his wounds.
Primula headed to the door to meet Frodo and was surprised to find him crying.
"Frodo dear! What's the matter?" she said, concern etching in her voice.
"I was only trying to get a rose for you," he wailed. Primula gently took his hand and clucked softly when she saw the thorn. She led him to the rocking chair and sat him down. Frodo looked at her sadly.
"I'm sorry I couldn't get you a rose! I'm sorry," he cried, tears streaming down his pale cheek.
"Oh love, it's okay, I'm glad you thought of me," she said softly pulling the thorn carefully from his palm. Frodo winced.
But she knew it love
It was one she could understand
He was showing his love
And that's how he hurt his hand.
"But mama I wanted you to know I love you," he said. Primula, who was finishing wrapping the wound with a bandage produced from the folds of her skirt, clasped Frodo's small hands in her's.
"Frodo, I will always know that you love me, and nobody or anything can change that by anything they do or say. Frodo gave her a watery smile and hugged her.
"I love you mama."
"I love you to sweetie."
He still remembers that night as a child
On his mother's knee
She held him close as she opened the bible
And quietly started to read.
Later that year, with a small fire in the fireplace, and Frodo's father Drogo smoking his pipe in his chair, Frodo sat in his mother's lap on the rocking chair. She reached over and pulled a book from the shelf next to the chair. It was the bible. She started reading a page out loud to Frodo as she did every night. Frodo felt so safe in his mother's arms, the smell of the smoke from his father's pipe, the rhythmic sway of the rocking chair, the soft murmur of his mother's musical voice.
In seeing a picture of Jesus he cried out
Mama he got some scars just like me.
Primula turned the page and on it was a picture of Jesus. She felt Frodo lean forward and look at it intently. Then he cried out softly.
"Mama! Look, he has a scar on his hand like mine!" Drogo smiled at his wife and son. Primula hugged Frodo.
And he knew it was love
It was one he could understand
He was showing his love
And that's how he hurt his hand.
"So he does."
Now the boys grown and moved out on his own
When Uncle Sam* comes along.
Frodo knelt upon the grave of his parents. The wind was blowing fiercely, and clouds were growing in the sky.
"Mama, Papa, I have to leave the Shire for a while. I have to take Bilbo's ring to Bree, maybe even Rivendell. I know that I promised that I would stay out of trouble and that I would always remain loyal to the Shire, but this is something I have to do that will most likely save the Shire." Frodo paused for a moment, as if listening intently for some kind of answer, but none came. The only sound was of the thunderclouds rolling in over the Shire.
"Don't worry though, Sam will come with me and perhaps Gandalf when he comes back from wherever he went off to. I didn't tell Merry or Pippin of my leaving, it would be too hard. I will come back as soon as I can." Frodo stood up and then pulled something from his cloak. "This is for you Mother." He left a red rose on her grave. The first raindrops started to pour from a cloud-ridden sky.
A foreign affair but our young men were there
And luck had his number drawn
Sam watched Frodo as he lay sleeping in his bed in Ithilien. The war was over and they would be returning home in a few weeks. It was a wonder they had survived. Especially Frodo. Luck had sure had Frodo's number drawn, for he had hurt his poor hand when he had destroyed the Ring. Sam leaned down gently to hold Frodo's bandaged hand, and they stayed like that for hours.
It wasn't that long till our hero was gone
He gave to a friend what he learned from the cross.
The sky was a clear cerulean blue, and the wind smelled of the ocean. Frodo Baggins stood unmoving watching the waves lap against the shores of the Grey Havens. A beautiful white ship was anchored to the dock. He heard approaching feet and turned to see his best friend Sam Gamgee. Frodo smiled warmly.
"Frodo, Mr. Gandalf wanted me to get you, the ship is about to leave," there was a note of sadness in his voice. Frodo walked up and placed a comforting hand on Sam's shoulder and they went to the shore.
After Frodo had bidden goodbye to Merry and Pippin, he went to Sam and pulled out a worn leather book from his cloak pocket.
"Sam, I want you to have this. It was the bible my mother read to me as a child. I thought that you might want to read it to little Eleanor. Please use it well." Tears rolled down both Sam and Frodo's face as they hugged each other one last time. In a few moments, Frodo Baggins of the Shire, Hero of Middle Earth, was gone.
And they knew it was love
It was one they could understand
He was showing his love, and that's how he hurt his hand.
The End.
That's how He hurt his Hand
By Katelyn J. R.
The boy only wanted to give mother something
And all of her roses had bloomed
Looking at him as he came rushing in with them
Knowing her roses were doomed.
Frodo Baggins paused outside his home thinking quickly. Today was his mother's birthday and he wanted to give her something special even though it was not a birthday custom among hobbits. His round sapphire blue eyes landed on a bush of beautiful red roses. Perfect! He bent down to pick out the loveliest one.
Inside the hobbit hole his mother Primula Baggins watched him smiling. Here little boy was growing up so fast and always wanted to make her smile. She saw him stoop and picked one of her favorite flowers and her smile faded only for a moment. He was only trying to make her happy.
Frodo closed a small hand around the rose and jerked it back in pain. A thorn was buried in the center of his palm.
All she could see were some thorns buried deep
And the tears that he cried as she tended his wounds.
Primula headed to the door to meet Frodo and was surprised to find him crying.
"Frodo dear! What's the matter?" she said, concern etching in her voice.
"I was only trying to get a rose for you," he wailed. Primula gently took his hand and clucked softly when she saw the thorn. She led him to the rocking chair and sat him down. Frodo looked at her sadly.
"I'm sorry I couldn't get you a rose! I'm sorry," he cried, tears streaming down his pale cheek.
"Oh love, it's okay, I'm glad you thought of me," she said softly pulling the thorn carefully from his palm. Frodo winced.
But she knew it love
It was one she could understand
He was showing his love
And that's how he hurt his hand.
"But mama I wanted you to know I love you," he said. Primula, who was finishing wrapping the wound with a bandage produced from the folds of her skirt, clasped Frodo's small hands in her's.
"Frodo, I will always know that you love me, and nobody or anything can change that by anything they do or say. Frodo gave her a watery smile and hugged her.
"I love you mama."
"I love you to sweetie."
He still remembers that night as a child
On his mother's knee
She held him close as she opened the bible
And quietly started to read.
Later that year, with a small fire in the fireplace, and Frodo's father Drogo smoking his pipe in his chair, Frodo sat in his mother's lap on the rocking chair. She reached over and pulled a book from the shelf next to the chair. It was the bible. She started reading a page out loud to Frodo as she did every night. Frodo felt so safe in his mother's arms, the smell of the smoke from his father's pipe, the rhythmic sway of the rocking chair, the soft murmur of his mother's musical voice.
In seeing a picture of Jesus he cried out
Mama he got some scars just like me.
Primula turned the page and on it was a picture of Jesus. She felt Frodo lean forward and look at it intently. Then he cried out softly.
"Mama! Look, he has a scar on his hand like mine!" Drogo smiled at his wife and son. Primula hugged Frodo.
And he knew it was love
It was one he could understand
He was showing his love
And that's how he hurt his hand.
"So he does."
Now the boys grown and moved out on his own
When Uncle Sam* comes along.
Frodo knelt upon the grave of his parents. The wind was blowing fiercely, and clouds were growing in the sky.
"Mama, Papa, I have to leave the Shire for a while. I have to take Bilbo's ring to Bree, maybe even Rivendell. I know that I promised that I would stay out of trouble and that I would always remain loyal to the Shire, but this is something I have to do that will most likely save the Shire." Frodo paused for a moment, as if listening intently for some kind of answer, but none came. The only sound was of the thunderclouds rolling in over the Shire.
"Don't worry though, Sam will come with me and perhaps Gandalf when he comes back from wherever he went off to. I didn't tell Merry or Pippin of my leaving, it would be too hard. I will come back as soon as I can." Frodo stood up and then pulled something from his cloak. "This is for you Mother." He left a red rose on her grave. The first raindrops started to pour from a cloud-ridden sky.
A foreign affair but our young men were there
And luck had his number drawn
Sam watched Frodo as he lay sleeping in his bed in Ithilien. The war was over and they would be returning home in a few weeks. It was a wonder they had survived. Especially Frodo. Luck had sure had Frodo's number drawn, for he had hurt his poor hand when he had destroyed the Ring. Sam leaned down gently to hold Frodo's bandaged hand, and they stayed like that for hours.
It wasn't that long till our hero was gone
He gave to a friend what he learned from the cross.
The sky was a clear cerulean blue, and the wind smelled of the ocean. Frodo Baggins stood unmoving watching the waves lap against the shores of the Grey Havens. A beautiful white ship was anchored to the dock. He heard approaching feet and turned to see his best friend Sam Gamgee. Frodo smiled warmly.
"Frodo, Mr. Gandalf wanted me to get you, the ship is about to leave," there was a note of sadness in his voice. Frodo walked up and placed a comforting hand on Sam's shoulder and they went to the shore.
After Frodo had bidden goodbye to Merry and Pippin, he went to Sam and pulled out a worn leather book from his cloak pocket.
"Sam, I want you to have this. It was the bible my mother read to me as a child. I thought that you might want to read it to little Eleanor. Please use it well." Tears rolled down both Sam and Frodo's face as they hugged each other one last time. In a few moments, Frodo Baggins of the Shire, Hero of Middle Earth, was gone.
And they knew it was love
It was one they could understand
He was showing his love, and that's how he hurt his hand.
The End.