I’m sharing a sweet little Mother’s Day Poem about sewing. It was published in a 1926 Needlecraft Magazine. Let’s just say, not too much has changed…
by Doris Wheeler Blount
I’m a busy wife and mother, too.
And life has been good to me:
And for all the joys that have been my lot,
I’m thankful as can be.
But each day in my heart a longing creeps,
As the hours come and go,
For a little time I might call my own,
When I could sit down and sew!
When I awake in the early morn
This thought comes first to mind –
That surely, before the day is done,
An hour of two I’ll find
To embroider a bit on the luncheon-cloth,
Or finish that scarf for Nell.
Or make French knots with those dainty silks
On an apron for Cousin Belle.
I’d like to hemstitch some towels, too,
And make a silk cushion, gay.
And dress up my windows with curtains fine,
Trimmed with cretonne and applique!
And the baby’s rompers with stitching blue,
And the blouses for Betty and John –
With the ducks on the pockets and ’round the hems –
Shall I ever get them done?
For the dishes and pails must first be washed,
And the chickens watered and fed.
And the little ones set at some childish play,
While I bathe and dress baby Ted.
There are sweeping and dusting and beds to do,
And dinner to plan once more,
While the basket of clothes all ready to iron
Must wait till these tasks are o’er.
And then, when the sun is sliding west,
There are lamps and plants to tend.
And the baby to cuddle and feed again,
And the stockings and socks to mend.
But as soon as the supper-hour is past,
And the bedtime-story read,
And dear little white-clad forms have knelt
At my knees while wee prayers are said,
Then the house is still: and I think at last
Here’s the time I have longed for so
But my eyes grow heavy – I cannot see,
And my weary head droops low,
So I fold my work and climb the stair,
Yet deep in my heart I know
That I’ve spent my day in a worthwhile way,
Though I couldn’t sit down and sew!