Tattered scraps of out dated patterns
she used on an old quilting rack
my father made from scraps of wood.
How fitting that her scraps of cloth would
become a Quilt of love
Sewn by hand
each stitch precise
each patch cut
and chosen the pattern
followed exact
Many times did she curse
as the blood dripped from the
small puncture
the needle had made.
Wiping it off
Hoping it wouldn’t stain
She would continue.
It took her many years to
complete
After all she was a working mother
Long nights she stayed up late
bent over the quilting rack
fingers cut and swollen after eight
hours on the machine assembly line
Still she stitched.
Perhaps it would never win any
contests, in the county fair
but in my eyes it was the most
beautiful creation
a magical pattern of love and warmth
to this child’s eyes
Now the quilt tattered, ripped and stained
still never fails to give me
warmth.
I still proudly display the battered pieces
held together with unskilled stitching,
next to the beautiful perfection she created
My mother was seldom happy
Kindness was never her strong point
Her words of love echoed empty
Yet with one gift of her creation
she told me more with her tattered scraps
then she ever said with words.
Close
Thank you for your comments I am so happy to see so many people understanding and enojoying my story
Kelda
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mamma's love in the tiffun she makes and the care with which she washes ,cooks, cleans and does everything just for us....her great love and warmth that never speak love expect through action!!!! great blog!
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Hi Kelda,
Simple and lovely words. Truly brings out the essence of a mothers love and the little things that we remember our mothers for. Reading this gave me a warm feeling too
Shuvashree
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The quilt is both literal and symbolic of her effort and her legacy to you. Yea, it should be loved. It is unique.
Enjoyed it.
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I'm sure - as pricless as the quilt is for you - your acceptance of her little gift must be pricless for her. You need a big heart and beautiful eyes to ignore the bad parts and concentrate on the good that she did - made a quilt lovingly.
Simple poem but means a lot more to me.
Reminds me of my mom.. she's very passionate abt patchwork quilts.
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That was lovely. I could almost see the quilt before my eyes.
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Very nice, Kelda. Keep writing.
Regards,
Girish
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Kelda,
Now that was beautiful, truly beautiful. Keep up the good work.
Kudos, Viv
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