The Work of Our Hands

Psalm 90:17 "And let the beauty of the LORD our God be upon us: and establish thou the work of our hands upon us; yea, the work of our hands establish thou it."

Are you like me and have lots of old linens stashed away in your attic or closets?  Okay, probably not!  Sometimes I think I was born in the wrong era.  I love old things, especially needlework and quilting from my mother and grandmother's generation.  All those tiny stitches come together to paint a canvas of thread.  Having done a few pieces of my own, I know the hours required to create the embroidery designs on napkins, pillowcases, sheets, and hand towels.  Our predecessors lovingly made linens for their own, or a beloved daughter's, hope chest.  Before electricity, I'm sure there were strained eyes while tatting or crocheting dresser scarves, doilies, and table runners by lamplight.

It's embarrassing; I literally have dozens of cloth napkins.  Until I started to corral them all in one place, I didn't realize how many.  How that happened, I am not quite sure.  They just seem to call my name at yard sales and vintage shops...."Rescue me, Laney!".  You know, I just have to oblige. 
Not only tablecloths, but I also have vintage doilies, tablecloths, tablerunners, and pillowcases.  Many were hand-embroidered by my mother.  As I run my hand over the stitches, I connect with her and envision a life so far removed from mine.  She never worked outside the home, but you would never find a harder worker.  Her hands did not know idleness, and I am proud to have been her daughter. 

Compared to my mother and grandmother's life, I am pampered and spoiled from hard work.  I can flip a switch and my home's rooms and yard are flooded with light.  The turn of a knob or push of a button is all that's required for heating up the stove top, oven, or microwave.  I don't need a root cellar or have to buy ice in order to keep food cold.  I have a refrigerator just steps away.  Trips to the bathroom don't have to be planned ahead--depending on the weather outdoors.  Running water comes from a faucet instead of a well bucket or trip to the nearest creek.  My washing machine and automatic dryer is inside.  My grandmother heated water in an iron pot in the yard for washing clothes.  I would imagine the expression "laundry day" was literal, not figurative.  Both she and my mother hung their clothes on a line--even in cold weather.  Although I do have a garden, I don't have to grow, catch, or kill the food I eat.  Most of it comes from the grocery store.

Since life was so hard, I imagine that is why beauty was so important to the women of the past.  Although their creations were mostly utilitarian, they are also lovely to look at.  Do we still have the ability to create beauty with our hands?  I know we have the ability to learn, but do we have the desire?  Youthful, nimble fingers and thumbs might find a more useful purpose than creating text messages, don't you think?  The result just might be amazing enough to be appreciated by the next generation.


Copyright 2011 Charlotte Laney