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I remember when I was little;
I came across my mother sewing.
“Show me Mama,” I begged.
“I want to be like you.”
She handed me some cloth
A button and a needle.
I poked the needle in and out
Then handed it to my Mother.
She kissed me and said: “Thank you.”
I remember when I was older;
My Mother sewed a dress.
“Show me mama,” I begged.
“I want to be like you.”
She handed me some cloth
Showed me the sewing machine.
I hemmed and tucked and imitated
A miniature masterpiece
Then tucked it in a drawer.
I remember when I was a woman;
I came across my mother mending.
“Show me mama,” I begged.
“I want to be like you.”
She handed me some cloth
Showed me where to patch.
I carefully followed instruction
Then tucked the dress in a closet
To wear on my wedding day.
I remember when I was pregnant;
My Mother came across me sewing.
“Help me mama,” I begged.
“I’m not a bit like you.”
She undid my mistakes
Showed me where to stitch.
I plugged away, encouraged,
Every stitch a labor of love
For the child that I carried.
I remember being a mother.
My daughter came across me sewing.
“Show me Mama,” she begged.
“I want to be like you.”
So I handed her some cloth
A button and a needle.
She pokes the needle in and out
Then hands it back to me.
I kiss her and say: “Thank you.”
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