The Thimble

I have lots of stories about  “The Gals” in my life.  They are comprised of my grandmother, a couple great aunts, and an old favorite cousin who lived on Cape Cod…  Oh how these ladies would laugh and enjoy the simplest of pleasures with such gusto — a Sunday supper with all the fixings, a game of cards, tipping a glass or two —but most of all, just being together.  The world could be at war, the economy in shambles, their men at times were somewhere south of perfect, but they always had fun and found reasons to count their blessings.

I find such comfort in thinking of them and what they taught me… About honesty, hard work, standing up for your country, believing the best in those God gave you to love, and not wavering in doing what is right.  This is my ancestry — a rich heritage of women who walked by faith and loved without relent.  

A thought of them popped into my head the other day, when I came across an old thimble in a drawer.  They were all so crafty, handy, and practical. The thimble was dull silver and well worn, and I could easily imagine it donning the middle, arthritic finger of any one of The Gals. They never minded the time it took to mend something that needed a quick stitch. They didn’t procrastinate or put off what could be done today.  From hems to hearts, they lay their hands to it.  Everything was fixable to them.  Everything.

 I could not help but see a contrast to my own wash and wear life.  

How easily we cast aside things, people, clothes — Maybe it’s missing a button, a seam that has given way, a tuck that is needed to draw closer, to sew together again what has separated.  There is this mound we designate as the “When I Have Time I’ll Take Care of That” pile.  It lurks in the corner of our closets, or on a To Do list that never gets checked off.  After enough time has passed, in one fell swoop, how easily that pile gets tossed among other things that are destined for Good Will, where someone else will appreciate what we no longer do.  

I’m not proud of that.  

The point to all of this is not, of course, just an expose’ of my family lineage.  But rather, how something, as simple as a thimble, makes a statement of — not just character, but of faith.

You see, the thimble is used to push through fabrics with a needle, to mend or to create, so that it is made stronger, better, more beautiful.  Something so small, when used properly, can make all the difference.

And so it is with faith.  The difference between having some and not, is much the same.  A mustard seed — or a thimble full — can change everything as we tend to our life situations. We all have rips and things that have let go.  We have plenty that needs our attention, if only we would stop putting them off.  Sometimes, we can see ourselves and our circumstances, as damaged and beyond repair.  But with just a little faith, we can push through, believing for restoration, knowing that everything and everyone has value.  

It can be small enough to fit on the tip of a finger, but it can do for us so much good if only we will try it on for size.  We don’t need to give in to tendencies to throw our hurts, our dreams, our yearnings into a pile, thinking that we’ll get to them in time.  Deep down, we know that if we don’t do the work, they will not get mended. Nothing will change.

The Gals had seen it all in their day, and then some.  But they still found reasons to be happy, and grateful, and mindful of their purpose to walk in love and see the best in everything.  That didn’t mean that everything was always good, just like what burdens your heart or mine.  But they found a way to mend, to sow and reap, to laugh and cook and find merriment in little things. 

I miss them more than words can say, but they have left me with lots of things to remind me of their hearts and spirits.

Mend a seam, a fence, a hurt, a broken anything — thread it though with faith and love and courage.  

We are made stronger, healed, more beautiful with every stitch.  

Don’t toss it in the pile. Look it over. Grab a thimble, say a prayer, and push through what is hard.  Know that you are never, ever alone. Everything is fixable.  Everything.  

Sometimes, it’s just waiting on us to thread the needle, to take the chance, and to believe that all things are possible with a little bit of faith. 

Mary Bryant is the author of "When He Walks Away… Hearing God When Your Husband Leaves Your Marriage,” a 5-Star rated book available on Amazon