Lost in Translation’s Thursday’s Special
prompt this week:
When I was a child my grandmothers and mother had button jars.
I think almost every woman had one.
When something was ready for the rag box the buttons were taken off and saved.
If something was made at home and new buttons bought,
at the five and dime store, the extras went into the button jar.
I don’t think women have button jars anymore…or rag boxes.
I don’t have a rag box but, I do have a button jar.
The picture is of the buttons from my jar.
Some of the buttons are from gramma’s jar, some from mom’s and some
are extras that come with sweaters, shirts, and blouses that I buy.
When I was little I would sort through the button jars.
It was like the buttons were jewels and kind of magical.
Sometimes I sort through the buttons I have.
They are like magical jewels bringing sweet memories to mind.
My grandfather, Pa, died when I was about two. Gramma and my aunt lived together. My aunt worked and had friends she spent time with leaving Gramma alone a lot of the time so I often stayed with her.
My favorite memory of her is when one night as she was tucking me into bed I told her the quilt was too heavy. That is when she told me about the Angels. She said it wasn’t the quilt that seemed heavy it was my Guardian Angel sitting there getting comfortable for the night. I had never heard of Guardian Angels! Gramma said everybody gets one when they are born and while we live they never leave us. She said that even when we are hurt or something bad happens they are with us so all will be well with our soul. And when we die they go with us on that last journey and make sure we know our way around heaven. Then they are reassigned and go on to meet their new baby. How awesome!
From then on I believed without a doubt that I have a Guardian Angel. I am sure there have been times I have given my Angel reason to ask for another assignment. I am just as sure there has never been a time my Angel has left me unattended and alone. I cannot imagine life without this blessing. I will always be grateful for Gramma telling me about Guardian Angels.
No family is perfect and mine was far from perfect
Yet, for all the craziness and dysfunction we were family.
I was not the easiest child, teen, young adult to put up with but,
no matter what, I knew the love of my parents and brothers.
I will always be thankful for my family.
Even though we did drive each other crazy most of the time.
My mother had several traditions that were important to her.
One of them was the Christmas Wish Candle and Book.
It was a red pillar candle brought out on Thanksgiving Day
and stayed on a table in the living room until New Years Day.
Everyone who came to the house during that time was invited to
light the candle, make a wish, blow the candle out, and sign the book.
And I mean everyone.
Friends, family, milkman, mailman, repairmen, and delivery people…
Some years there were pages of names and some years only a few.
I don’t know what happened to the Wish Candle and Book.
If I had a Wish Candle I would wish to have Ma’s Wish Book.
Ring-a round the rosie
A pocket full of posies
We all fall down.
I remember singing this rhyme, whirling around and falling down.
In kindergarten and first grade it was great fun on the playground.
I learned that it was a rhyme that referred to plagues in the middle ages.
It was said that there was a rosy rash, sneezing, and coughing with the plague.
People carried posies of herbs in their pockets to ward off the disease and the smell.
“All fall down” is what people did when they got the plague and died.
Ashes to ashes alluded to cremation of the bodies.
This is what I learned but it seems I learned wrong.
Today, most folklore experts say it’s all hooey.
I don’t care.
I like the explanation I was taught and I’m sticking with it.