This chapter is dedicatted to my mom
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The Master Weaver
Some Women sew amazing quilts.
Some women tapestry.
My mother weaves with words a million memories.
Early In her childhood her years spent on the farm
taught her the rhime of seasons and she gathered her first yarn.
She learned the pride of work well done and the joy of family
And she learned that things worth having dont come easily...
As she grew into a woman she found her own true love ,
His thread combined with hers fit just like a glove.
In to the world they barely knew the two would go alone.
my mother said she had no fear for she had found her home...
Some womean sew amazing quilts.
Some women tapestry.
My mother weaves with words a million memories.
Into their home soon children came 2 boys and 2 were girls...
They promised to protect them and they gave them all the world.
In our imperfect childhood our mother helped us see.
Her words were tiny threads of gold she knew the thread we need.
Children bring the sweetest joy and the sweetest pain .
My mothers threads would strenghten us again and again.
Each year it seemed she knew when a color had to change.
And she would have our threads all ready to arrange
Some women sew amazing quilts
Some women tapestry.
My mother weaves with words a million memories.
Seasons fly and we are older and have children of our own.
My mothers joyous weaving made each grand-child feel at home.
My mother discovered colors that she had never seen.
as if they came from heaven they had such amazing sheen.
In everyones lifetime there are many things for which we pray.
That children are healthy and that all our loved ones ones stay
When most mothers would be their weakest her thread was so strong.
Through years of caring for her husband and the death of a son.
Some women sew amazing qulits.
Some women tapestry.
My mother weaves with words a million memories.
life can bring the sweetest joys and the sweetest pain.
My mothers threads would strengthen us again and again.
It takes a master weaver to take the sweetest pain and turn it into
something beautiful again and again.
It takes a master weaver



