[CS-FSLUG] The Yellow shirt
@ndrew
andrew at dothedrew.net
Wed Nov 10 21:40:30 CST 2004
Fred,
I never knew you were pregnant! Wow. The things one learns.
--
@ndrew
andrew at dothedrew.net
http://www.dothedrew.net
"No amount of genius can overcome
a preoccupation with detail."
> -----Original Message-----
> From: Christiansource-bounces at ofb.biz
> [mailto:Christiansource-bounces at ofb.biz] On Behalf Of Fred Miller
> Sent: Wednesday, November 10, 2004 6:16 PM
> To: CS-FSLUG
> Subject: [CS-FSLUG] The Yellow shirt
>
> The Yellow shirt
>
> The baggy yellow shirt had long sleeves, four
> extra-large pockets trimmed in black thread and snaps up the
> front. It was faded from years of wear, but still in decent
> shape. I found it in 1963 when I was home from college on
> Christmas break, rummaging through bags of clothes Mom
> intended to give away.
>
> "You're not taking that old thing, are you?" Mom said
> when she saw me packing the yellow shirt. "I wore that when
> I was pregnant with your brother in 1954!"
>
> "It's just the thing to wear over my clothes during
> art class, Mom.
> "Thanks!"
> I slipped it into my suitcase before she could object.
>
> The yellow shirt became a part of my college
> wardrobe. I loved it.
> After graduation, I wore the shirt the day I moved into my
> new apartment and on Saturday mornings when I cleaned.
>
> The next year, I married. When I became pregnant, I
> wore ! the yellow shirt during big-belly days. I missed Mom
> and the rest of my family, since we were in Colorado and
> they were in Illinois. But that shirt helped. I smiled,
> remembering that Mother had worn it when she was pr egnant,
> 15 years earlier.
>
> That Christmas, mindful of the warm feelings the
> shirt had given me, I patched one elbow, wrapped it in
> holiday paper and sent it to Mom. When Mom wrote to thank me
> for her "real" gifts, she said the yellow shirt was lovely.
> She never mentioned it again.
>
> The next year, my husband, daughter and I stopped at
> Mom and Dad's to pick up some furniture. Days later, when we
> uncrated the kitchen table, I noticed something yellow taped
> to its bottom. The shirt!
>
> And so the pattern was set. On our next visit home, I
> secretly placed the shirt under Mom and Dad's mattress. I
> don't know how long it took for her to find it, but almost
> two years passed before I discovered it under the base of our
> living-room floor lamp. The yellow shirt was just what I
> needed now while refinishing furniture. The walnut stains
> added character.
>
> In 1975 my husband and I divorced. With my three
> children, I prepared to move back to Illinois. As I packed,
> a deep depression overtook me. I wondered if I could make it
> on my own. I wondered if I would find a job.
>
> I paged through the Bible, looking for comfort. In
> Ephesians, I read, "So use every piece of God's armor to
> resist the enemy whenever he attacks, and when it is all
> over, you will be standing up."
>
> I tried to picture myself wearing God's armor, but
> all I saw was the stained yellow shirt. Slowly, it dawned on
> me. Wasn't my mother's love a piece of God's armor? My
> courage was renewed.
>
> Unpacking in our new home, I knew I had to get the
> shirt back to Mother.
> The next time I visited her, I tuc! ked it in her bottom
> dresser drawer.
>
> Meanwhile, I found a good job at a radio station. A
> year later I `discovered the yellow shirt hidden in a rag bag
> in my cleaning closet.
> Something new had been added. Embroidered in bright green
> across the breast pocket were the words "I BELONG TO PAT."
>
> Not to be outdone, I got out my own embroidery
> materials and added an apostrophe and seven more letters.
> Now the shirt proudly proclaimed, "I BELONG TO PAT'S MOTHER."
> But I didn't stop there. I ziz-zagged all the frayed seams,
> then had a friend mail the shirt in a fancy box to Mom from
> Arlington, VA. We enclosed an official looking letter from;
> "The Institute for the Destitute," announcing that she was
> the recipient of an award for good deeds. I would have given
> anything to see Mom's face when she opened the box. But, of
> course, she never mentioned it.
>
> Two years later, in 1978, I remarried. Th! e day of
> our wedding, Harold and I put our car in a friend's garage to
> avoid practical jokers. After the wedding, while my husband
> drove us to our honeymoon suite, I `reached for a pillow in
> the car to rest my head. It felt lumpy. I unzipped the case
> and found, wrapped in wedding paper, the yellow shirt in the
> breast pocket it read; "Read John 14:27-29. I love you both, Mother."
>
> That night I paged through the Bible in a hotel room
> and found the
> verses: "I am leaving you with a gift: peace of mind and
> heart. And the peace I give isn't fragile like the peace the
> world gives. So don't be troubled or afraid. Remember what
> I told you: I am going away, but I will come back to you
> again. If you really love me, you will be very happy for me,
> for now I can go to the Father, who is greater than I am. I
> have told you these things before they happen so that when
> they do, you will believe in me."!
>
> The shirt was Mother's final gift. She had known for
> three months that she had terminal Lou Gehrig's disease.
> Mother died the following year at age 57.
>
> I was tempted to send the yellow shirt with her to
> her grave. But I'm glad I didn't, because it is a vivid
> reminder of the love-filled game she and I played for 16
> years. Besides, my older daughter is in college now,
> majoring in art. And every art student needs a baggy yellow
> shirt with big pockets.
>
> "That Christ in your hearts is your only hope of glory."
> -Colossians1:27.
>
> --
> "Democracy is two wolves and a lamb voting on what to have
> for lunch. Liberty is a well-armed lamb contesting the vote."
> - Benjamin Franklin 1759
>
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