SEEING CLEARLY ENOUGH TO SEE HOW TO THREAD A NEEDLE...IN THE MIDDLE OF A WINTER

Upstate New York many years ago; in the middle of a bitter winter, my grand parents were at their dining room table with a small lamp burning and the big pot-bellied stove was sending out a lot of heat.

I was snuggled on a small couch with one of our cats, enjoying the fact that the three of us were inside having eaten some navy beans, fresh home-made bread and I watched as my grand mother did in order to pass the time away during those cold winter evenings;  she was trying to push some thread through the small eye of a needle, her eyes were squinting as her hands were shaking as she tried to thread that small needle.

I strained to see how see was doing...not so good, so I suggested that she give me a try...she wiped her brow and then handed me her thread, needle and thimble which would keep the sharp needle from stabbing our fingers.

I pushed the needle down against with old wood on the dining room table, and standing up began to squinted trying to see the small eye of the needle by aiming it directly the dim light od the small lamp.  I also put the end of the thread in my mouth and twisted it so the end would be easier to push through the small needle's eye.  After a few stabs I succeeded and with a great sense of confidence I handed to back to her.  She did wear glasses, but she was always taking them off and on with her fingers touching the glasses...consequently they were smudged and barely able to see through them.  So that was another way I helped her; I would take her glasses and find something to wipe them clean again.  She would put them on and laugh....now she could see again!

She did a lot of sewing during the winter; once she made me a heavy winter coat out of an old horse blanket.. It was brown and she knew how to measure my arms, legs, and waist.  It took her many weeks to finish it, and she had big black buttons sewn on the front and the place I pushed the buttons through she had used black thread to make sure they would be tight would be enough not to let the cold wind and snow into my small body.  When she finally finished it, she had me turn around and then push each arm through and then she dropped it onto my slender body.  The weight of it nearly pushed me to the ground.

Outside in the winter though it sure did feel good,  She was right, not the slightest cold wind nor snow was able to penetrate that winter coat!  There was a collar on that coat that would stretch up high over my two ears...and with a pair of her mittens she had made me, and a woolen cap, I could stand even the coldest mornings as I would make my way out to the barn to help my grand father milk our five cows.

How I wish I had saved that old winter coat...but I can still remember how she made it for me, and I thank God I still have those fond memories when the three of us could enjoy those long winter months in upstate New York.