Since I wrote about Grandpa a few weeks ago, I can't neglect my Grandma. The two of them were complete opposites.
He was fiery, had a hot temper, cussed like a sailor, and never darkened the door of a church except for funerals. Even then, he sometimes had to be coaxed. She was patient, mild-mannered, and never raised her voice; a devout Christian who never missed a church service. When faced with a situation she didn't like, she would look you in the eyes and softly say, "I wish you wouldn't do that." Those kind words were enough to stop me, and even Grandpa, in our tracks. My mother, her daughter-in-law, loved Grandma wholeheartedly and once told me that, if there was ever a saint put here on earth, it was my Grandma. I can't think of a more wonderful compliment from a daughter-in-law.
Grandma was an expert seamstress who didn't just sew and do alterations; she could design and cut her own patterns. In addition to more mundane things, Grandma once made band uniforms for the local high school and she remade an authentic WW II Japanese kimono into a more American robe at the request of the wife who had received it. It was the first time I'd ever felt silk.
Grandma's room always contained scraps of material that were far more beautiful than anything our family could afford. I was allowed to practice sewing with some of those scraps and guess who had the loveliest doll clothes in all of Leon. I never had a store-bought dress or coat until after I started high school. My homemade clothes, many made from fabric that was reclaimed from my aunts' cast-offs, were beautiful. I especially remember a gorgeous brown wool coat with copper-colored lining and a dress my Dad called my princess dress (because I looked like a princess in it). It was made from reclaimed flour sack material. And, yes, flour did come in muslin sacks.
I still have scraps of that red silk Japanese kimono. I have the wool and velvet comforter we made together. Grandma helped me piece it and taught me to embroider at the same time. We lined it with turquoise silk fabric from a WW II parachute. I was eleven years old when it was finished. After looking at the picture above, I know you will agree that it is beautiful, as is that red scrap of the Japanese kimono and her pin cushion. I also have the first cross-stitched sampler I did, with her supervision, at age six. The tangible things I have are precious to me although they have no monetary value. The intangible gifts she gave me are more precious than diamonds and pearls.
Here is my tribute to my Grandma, Arminta May Casto Burns:
MY GRANDMA
My grandma made my life replete,
With kind, soft words so very sweet.
I never heard her raise her voice,
Except in song, and to rejoice.
For every single path she trod,
Was guided by her faith in God.
And it was her true belief,
He’d help her o’er the stormy reefs.
She made me dresses trimmed in lace.
I still can see her lovely face.
In the garden we would hoe,
And she taught me how to sew.
My treasure was her button box,
And I still have her biscuit crock.
We cooked and canned and did the dishes,
While we talked about our wishes.
We skimmed the cream, made cottage cheese,
Snapped the beans and shelled the peas.
We planted flowers of every hue,
And looked for fairies in the dew.
She helped me make a crazy quilt,
And, block by block, it slowly built,
Into a keepsake I still love.
I’m sure she’s smiling from above.
Her auburn hair was long and bright.
She let me brush it every night.
And just before I went to bed,
She listened to the prayers I said.
I think of Grandma as so meek,
But not to be construed as weak.
Her self-control reached every length,
And so her meekness was her strength.
It wasn’t that a race was won,
But that I knew when I was done,
That I had giv’n my very best,
And God had helped me in my quest.
Through every challenge and through strife,
My Grandma sought to mold her life,
To be the best that she could be,
And by doing so, taught me.
By Sarah Anne Burns
He was fiery, had a hot temper, cussed like a sailor, and never darkened the door of a church except for funerals. Even then, he sometimes had to be coaxed. She was patient, mild-mannered, and never raised her voice; a devout Christian who never missed a church service. When faced with a situation she didn't like, she would look you in the eyes and softly say, "I wish you wouldn't do that." Those kind words were enough to stop me, and even Grandpa, in our tracks. My mother, her daughter-in-law, loved Grandma wholeheartedly and once told me that, if there was ever a saint put here on earth, it was my Grandma. I can't think of a more wonderful compliment from a daughter-in-law.
Grandma was an expert seamstress who didn't just sew and do alterations; she could design and cut her own patterns. In addition to more mundane things, Grandma once made band uniforms for the local high school and she remade an authentic WW II Japanese kimono into a more American robe at the request of the wife who had received it. It was the first time I'd ever felt silk.
Grandma's room always contained scraps of material that were far more beautiful than anything our family could afford. I was allowed to practice sewing with some of those scraps and guess who had the loveliest doll clothes in all of Leon. I never had a store-bought dress or coat until after I started high school. My homemade clothes, many made from fabric that was reclaimed from my aunts' cast-offs, were beautiful. I especially remember a gorgeous brown wool coat with copper-colored lining and a dress my Dad called my princess dress (because I looked like a princess in it). It was made from reclaimed flour sack material. And, yes, flour did come in muslin sacks.
I still have scraps of that red silk Japanese kimono. I have the wool and velvet comforter we made together. Grandma helped me piece it and taught me to embroider at the same time. We lined it with turquoise silk fabric from a WW II parachute. I was eleven years old when it was finished. After looking at the picture above, I know you will agree that it is beautiful, as is that red scrap of the Japanese kimono and her pin cushion. I also have the first cross-stitched sampler I did, with her supervision, at age six. The tangible things I have are precious to me although they have no monetary value. The intangible gifts she gave me are more precious than diamonds and pearls.
Here is my tribute to my Grandma, Arminta May Casto Burns:
MY GRANDMA
My grandma made my life replete,
With kind, soft words so very sweet.
I never heard her raise her voice,
Except in song, and to rejoice.
For every single path she trod,
Was guided by her faith in God.
And it was her true belief,
He’d help her o’er the stormy reefs.
She made me dresses trimmed in lace.
I still can see her lovely face.
In the garden we would hoe,
And she taught me how to sew.
My treasure was her button box,
And I still have her biscuit crock.
We cooked and canned and did the dishes,
While we talked about our wishes.
We skimmed the cream, made cottage cheese,
Snapped the beans and shelled the peas.
We planted flowers of every hue,
And looked for fairies in the dew.
She helped me make a crazy quilt,
And, block by block, it slowly built,
Into a keepsake I still love.
I’m sure she’s smiling from above.
Her auburn hair was long and bright.
She let me brush it every night.
And just before I went to bed,
She listened to the prayers I said.
I think of Grandma as so meek,
But not to be construed as weak.
Her self-control reached every length,
And so her meekness was her strength.
It wasn’t that a race was won,
But that I knew when I was done,
That I had giv’n my very best,
And God had helped me in my quest.
Through every challenge and through strife,
My Grandma sought to mold her life,
To be the best that she could be,
And by doing so, taught me.
By Sarah Anne Burns
