Grandma's New Shawl

Grandma shivers, and to warm her, I wrap an old faded shawl around her frail frame. A shawl she had hand woven many years ago. I hold her, and while she sleeps, she touches the worn threads. Her fingers move over the old design, of two faded red roses. Her eyes are closed. Perhaps, my Grandma's dreams are somewhere in the past, reviewing all her life's weavings. Suddenly Grandma's eyes open. She reaches out as her hands tremble over the old shawl. Her fingers seem to be tracing a new design over the faded roses, as if an intrinsically beautiful pattern is being revealed to her. Now I understand! Grandma is weaving a new shawl! Eagerly she leans forward. I watch her pick up one old loose thread, and firmly tie it to the new.