~ from cats, dogs and nature to the flowering of body, mind and spirit ~

Sunday, November 28, 2010


Attach a button
Limply drooping
Thread is looping
Stitched with love

Tin of buttons
Colors gleaming
Metals beaming

Hole for button
Gathered into
Twisted through

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.


free photo © Mike Weidman | Dreamstime.com


  1. I have several tins of buttons -- some inherited from my grandmother, others acquired along the way. Something magical about these humble little things!

  2. Magical is right, Vicki -- I felt like it was this little treasure box!


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