A Grandmother Behind Closed Doors

She wore an aura of light and bent over a sewing machine. Through thick lenses she peered at every stitch created by her touch. She didn’t say for whom she was making the dress while letting fine fabric slip through her hands. Her actions called it love. When she’d give the dress all she asked was to see the light in a child’s eyes as she reflected on life. She’d hold the child on her lap, and release the child to laugh and play in a park, so beautiful and free as the bird that flew through the sky. (Based on a painting by Lily Pregianiero)