The Old Hooked Rug
By G. Gwen Kelsey
In years to come you will see it there –
This old hooked rug by the rocking chair,
And all you will see is a faded rug,
Making the room look comfy and snug;
While I see mother bending there
Over the rug, with her silver hair,
Hooking a pattern of her joys and care,
Trying to ease the heartache and pain,
Looking back over the years again,
Unfolding the pictures and hooking them in,
Making the flowers as neat as a pin.
A soft old blue brings back memories dear;
Her work-worn hands brush aside a tear;
Then with a deep, soul-rending sigh,
She bows her head and begins to cry;
For the old coat sleeve she is hooking on
Was once worn by her soldier son;
So she tucks in the ends and makes them fast,
Colors and rags, so the rug will last.
You would never know, on seeing it there,
This old hooked rug by the rocking chair,
Of the years of living that are hooked between
The blues and browns, with the soft moss green.
The colors will fade with years, my son,
But the pattern within will never run.
(1946)
Well, this one made me cry. What a beautiful picture it paints.
The closest thing I have to this is the one-and-only quilt my grandmother ever pieced, with prints that must date to the 1930s. I wonder which ones are scraps from dresses Grandma made for my mother. They aren’t memories, exactly, but something close.
Thanks for enjoying this with me.
Wonderful. I’m collecting scraps of the clothes I’ve made for my daughters to make a memory quilt. Others will see fabrics, and I’ll see a “coming home from the hospital” skirt, “first Easter” dress, or “first steps” top.
Love, love, love!