by Connie S. Tettenborn
“Train up a child in the way he should go,
even when he is old he will not depart from it.” —Proverbs 22:6
Could Solomon have known of
the cotton-ball ram caught in a thicket
that my mother made to illustrate
God’s provision for Abraham?
She used an egg to teach a 9-year-old
the concept of the Trinity.
I remember lessons about God
from my mother—God’s instrument.
God’s hands that offered
quinine water to cool the fever
of measles, made potato poultice
for itchy Chicken Pox.
I have a patchwork quilt of
memories that warm my heart as
I recall my favorite faux-leather jumper,
the long lilac skirt for the spring concert,
the matching blue velvet dresses
my sisters and I wore for the Easter photo—
all made by mom. Mom’s hands
taught these hands how to
knot the sewing thread,
braid my hair and make meatloaf
and a thousand other now-second-nature
to remember everyday how
mom helped make me who I am.
About the Writer
Connie S. Tettenborn, PhD, worked as a research scientist in biotech before transitioning to scientific editing. She now has more time to write poetry and create visual and mathematical poetry using watercolors or digital media. Her artwork or poetry has appeared in the Deronda Review, Uppagus, California Quarterly and various online venues.
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Photo is in the Public Domain.
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