I got a jingle the other day from my dear friend Clara who lives one holler over and a piece further up in the woods. She was wondering if I might like to come on over for some tea and spinning. Woodoggie, you bet! So it was a date and one day last week I fired up the truck, loaded up my spinning wheel and in two shakes, I was at Clara’s slow home nestled among Douglas Fir, fruit trees and lilacs on their 120 acre spread.
She greeted me tenderly at the door in simple house dress and apron with a smile that shines a little brighter each day that she draws closer to the Lord. It was a rainy day and I noticed the drops falling from the mossy roof of her old place with it’s worn siding and felt the comfort of her loving embrace on a familiar and aging wooden porch reminiscent of the many that seem to grace the old places up here in the woods. She paused a moment to point a bony hard worked finger towards a roof peaking through a cluster of trees and superfluous greenery in the distance, mentioning that a daughter and family live there. And then she pointed to yet another, in which I commented, “How blessed you are indeed Miss Clara.”
Clara and I enjoyed a wonderful afternoon of tea, spinning and sensible conversation. I learned a thing or two about wool, knitting, husbands and children. Abut the resiliency of hand spun and a good marriage and……
The darkened pathway on this once all white diamond patterned linoleum floor boasts of the years of child rearing and family gatherings. The carefully tended lives of children, grandchildren and now great grandchildren make their mark, revealing depth and polish with every pass. Clara and her beloved shuffle through each day going about their daily tasks on this smooth as silk floor that speaks softly of their remarkable lives. Lives that are as resilient and pure as true linoleum.