Yesterday my daughter spent time mending a pair of pants for her four-year-old son. Passed down from his cousin, a few years his senior, they already had history. Hours spent doing what little boys do. Rather than toss them, she carefully mended them. Artfully stitching together the old with the new, patching the hole, reinforcing the seams, and readying them for more of what this little boy will do.
What is true of a pair of pants is true of life. With time comes wear and tear, and the need for repair. Our fabric wears thin, feelings catch on sharp words, hurtful choices tear people apart.
Mending is the art of tending to what has been torn.
Mending matters.
(To learn more about the art of mending, check out Mending Matters by Katrina Rodabaugh)
With gratitude to HKK
