The Ugly Sweater

The Ugly Sweater

Grandma taught me to crochet. 
My aunt she taught me to knit. 
I can do neither well. 
It is the truth. 
At six, my hands were small, 
and could not carry the experience, 
gained in a lifetime, by my teachers. 

I am grown now. 

I remember. 
My stitches they are straighter. 
They are more like Grandma’s now. 
My stitches they are numbered, 
just as my aunt taught me, 
before I could read or write. 
I remembered. 

My sweater is not perfect, 
not for lack of effort. 
I wear it…
And, I love it anyway. 
It represents to me, 
Everything I could remember, 
that I had forgotten, 
that was important, 
to be remembered. 

Amen.

christiangrandmotherhomei missfree verse

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