Mother’s Golden Threads
By Katherine Suman
There she sits with lowered head
Her work before her, needle and thread.
Her stitches small, straight and neat,
She’s my Mother, loving and sweet.
She sews for fun, for pleasure, for all
For a grown daughter, a grandchild, small.
Not only garments, neat and fine
But Mother has fashioned this life of mine.
She has sown her influence, faithful and true
In and out, all my life through.
A bit of encouragement, a kind word said
Patient and sure with her golden thread.
When oft I questioned her handiwork,
When the stitches were deep and I would shirk.
Her thimble of love would ease the thread through.
And with each stitch, the child grew.
She stitched the thread of courage ‘mid strife
And the thread of joy to brighten my life.
The threads of laughter, love and peace
And a faith in God that does not cease.
But now, she’s handing something to me,
The needle, the thread and the thimble, all three.
And says, “It’s time you stitched for others.”
Lord, make me worthy of this gift of Mother’s.