Mama's Pet Helper

Sewing machine, long idle, gathered dust, That Singer, that for Mama was a must. She tried her best to teach me how to sew, But it was hard to catch me on the go. I wanted a real job with ample pay, At sewing lessons, I could never stay. When Mom died, she left me her old Singer, As antique as washer with a wringer. The war years seemed like only yesterday. While they lasted, I had a job with pay. I bought my dresses off rack at Penney's, And could afford to eat lunch at Denny's. I kept Mom's picture on her old sewer. She smiled at me sitting 'neath hair blower. I started as my big dog gave a bark, The candle sputtered, spent and all was dark.