Pausing for Poetry

  

 



Grandmother's Towels

 

                        Afraid they might fall to

                        Ruin,

                        Be dulled by absent washing,

                        In her care,

                        She waited to use them.

 

                        Folded,

                        and aloof, they

                        Held their brightness,

                        Their shapes and colors,

                        Alone.

 

                        When urgent need,

                        Of constant mess,

                        When small hands and feet,

                        Muddied all else,

 

                        She reached for them.

                        And found them far stronger,

                        Than she had hoped.

 

                        And now,

                        In heaps they lie,

                        Beneath cabinets,

                        And as blankets for dolls.

 

                        Their colors still bright,

                        comfortably tangled,

                        And far from

                        alone.                    
      by Lorien Sekora
 

 

 

After I read this poem I ran to the back bedroom and pulled out my grandmother's towels. My grandmother loved to embroider. Dish towels, pillow cases, table runners, pot holders...anything that would take a stamp! I have to say I've been stingy about using them. I don't want to wear them out because I like to look at them from time to time. I imagine Grandma sitting in her chair after the dishes were done, picking out bright colors for the flowers and deciding on different shades of green for the leaves. She'd thread her needle and deftly place French knots, lazy daisy stitches, seed stitches, the running stitch and more. Most likely she was humming the tune for a hymn as she sewed. She made many, many items for her church and the hospital auxiliary bazaars. I'm lucky enough to have a few of the things she made. But after reading this poem they will no longer hang out in a lonely dresser drawer in the back bedroom. I'm bringing them out to hang with the family! I'm thinking Grandma would be happy about that. In fact, tonight after supper I'm going to dry dishes with the "Tuesday" towel and maybe hum one of the old hymns. Later I'll sit in my easy chair and do some needlework myself!