Buttons

Attach a button
Limply drooping
Thread is looping
Stitched with love

Tin of buttons
Colors gleaming
Metals beaming
Family

Hole for button
Gathered into
Twisted through
Together

Fancy or plain
Big button or small
Without the hole
Nothing at all

Without the whole...Nothing

I was sewing a button on one of Ron's shirts this morning, and felt so peaceful, so at ease. I found myself sinking into those few minutes with total attention, watching the thread on the needle attaching the button, pulling it closely. The simple act of caring for the clothing of a loved one, something that protects and covers and embraces. The tiny stitches that make such a big difference. I remember the tins of buttons Grandma had; they were like a glorious, colorful world of plastic and metal and wood, and sounded like a tamborine! And, yet, without something to connect with, the buttons are not whole, they are loose and disconnected, pretty without purpose, a substance without love.

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GRANNY'S BUTTONS
free photo © Mike Weidman | Dreamstime.com