They tossed a coin on a Sunday morning after church. Albrecht Durer won the toss and went off to Nuremberg. 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 high fees for his works.
When the young artist returned to his village, the Durer family held a festive dinner to celebrate Albrecht’s triumphant homecoming. After a long and memorable meal, Albrecht rose at the head of the table to drink a toast to his beloved brother for the years of sacrifice that had allowed Albrecht to fulfill his ambition. His closing words were, “And now, Albert, blessed brother of mine, it is your turn. Now you can go to Nuremberg to pursue your dream, and I will take care of you.”
All heads turned 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…”
Finally, Albert rose, wiped the tears from his cheek and said, “No, brother. I cannot go to Nuremberg. It is too late for me. Look what four years in the mines have dome to my hands! The bones in every finger have been smashed, and lately I have been suffering from arthritis so badly in my right hand that I cannot make delicate lines on parchment or canvas with a pen or brush. No, brother, for me it is too late.”
In order to pay homage to Albert’s sacrifice, Albrecht Durer 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 praying hands.
Note: Albrecht Durer is a famous artist, but there is no historical confirmation for this inspiring story, which appears to have been recently invented.