1/30/12
Isaiah T. Silkwood
Writing Strands Lesson # 6
WHAT MAKES IT WHAT IT IS
THE GIFT
Mary stood in front of her dingy little mirror. She had just folded the last of her hair into a bun and slid her hairpin in place. Nabbing her bonnet she placed it on her head and tied a quick knot under her chin. She glanced down at her dress and turned her body, admiring the way that the dress swirled and bounced. Her husband, Eli Canterhaven, had brought the light olive green dress home to her as a gift after his last voyage on the vessel of his merchant employer. It was simple yet elegant. It had green sleeves and body, with a shining milky white strip that came flowing up the center. She was sure that she had the best husband in the world. She would always think the best of him, whether he brought home elaborate gifts, small gifts, or no gifts at all. The best gift that he ever brought home was himself. The last six months of his absence had seemed like an eternity, but at last she expected to see his vessel within the next few weeks.
She glanced back into their small apartment at all of her embroidery work that was strewn about at various points of completion. Seeing that she had forgotten nothing she stepped gaily outside.
Today was the day of the Philadelphia street market, and she lived only a block away. The Sunday prior marked the completion of one of her largest projects. A fully embroidered dress. The following Tuesday she had been able to deliver the dress, with the needlework done in a pearly silk, to her client. The client had provided the material and, at last, the payment for the work. She walked briskly along the sidewalk joyously humming her favorite tune. She had been blessed with such a fine client that month that she couldn’t wait to pass that blessing along to her husband. Though deep down she knew the best gift that either of them could receive was each other’s company.