Things to Remember When the Soul Needs Warming
(Conversation With a Wise Woman)
“Sit yourself down,” she said.
I took a seat next to her in front of the fireplace.
She was stitching fabric stars onto a quilt square.
“I made these stars out of my grandmother’s wedding dress,” she said.
“Quilts come in handy when the soul needs warming.”
“My grandfather said they had a good life in spite of hateful folks.”
She rocked and stitched to the rhythm of the rocker,
gently pulling the needle in and out.
I settled myself in my chair. For some reason, I leaned toward the window.
“See that tree in the yard?” she asked.
“Been there forty years. Still turns green every spring. It will outlive me; that’s for sure. Pass me those scissors.”
I handed them to her. Some music floated in from a neighbor’s house.
“You know Beethoven must have really loved life. Even after he couldn’t hear, he wrote that “Ode to Joy.”
We were quiet for a while, listening to the music.
"You hungry?” she asked,
“Blackberries grow wild some places. You don’t even have to plant them. They make good pies.”
“That’s beautiful,” I said pointing to her quilt.
“You know, someone once told me there are crystals deep in the earth that are beautiful beyond anything you can imagine. Hidden beauty for some reason, hidden beauty. But we know it’s there. I suppose that’s a comfort. It’s there.”
She picked up another star to add to her quilt.
“The stars aren’t hidden though, they’re millions of light years away, but they’re sharing their light. That’s something to think about.”
The fire crackled a little and threw out sparks.
“A house on this street burned down last year,” she said, gazing into the fireplace.
“That’s the way of it,” she added, rocking. “The pendulum swings.”
“Good to know when the soul needs warming,” I said.
© Linda Beatrice Brown