Mom, This One Needs Your Hands

Thursday 17th April 2025 1:14 am

My school bag used to be torn.
My mother patiently sewed it,
stitch by stitch, she arranged it neatly,
connecting one side to the other, she made it whole again.

She said that sewing is a way to be grateful for what we have,
so it won’t end up as something forgotten,
but remain as something cherished.

As I grew up,
I began to practice what she taught.
One by one, I sewed the rips I had.
But there is one big rip left.

Mom...
I think this one needs your hands.
Can you help me?

Comments

Yanma Hidayah

Sat 19th Apr 2025 03:00

Thank you so much Hélène and Marla ❤❤

Marla Joy

Fri 18th Apr 2025 19:58

Yanma,

Your poetry here is reaches many in different ways.

I can relate to that kind of longing and tender care.

And Rolph David - you are a gifted commentator!

Marla

Hélène

Fri 18th Apr 2025 14:32

A stunningly beautiful poem, Yanma. Speaks of gentle care and an unbreakable bond of love, tinged with yearning.

Yanma Hidayah

Fri 18th Apr 2025 05:12

@RolphDavid, your words made me emotional, and I loved the part, "healing is a shared thread." Thank you so much, Rolph.
Warm regards,
Yanma

Yanma Hidayah

Fri 18th Apr 2025 05:11

@TomDoolan The same experience happened to me when I was little. I used to rip my pants a lot, and then I would sew them myself. I enjoyed the experience; even my father entrusted the rips in his pants to my younger self, and I felt honored because of that. Thank you so much, Tom.

Rolph David

Thu 17th Apr 2025 10:12

Yanma,
Reading your poem “Mom, This One Needs Your Hands” felt like walking quietly into a memory—one that isn't mine, yet feels so familiar. It touched something deep in me.
Your mother’s hands, patient and precise, didn’t just mend a bag—they stitched values, care, and presence into your life. And as you picked up the needle later on, mending your own rips, it felt like a silent, powerful legacy being passed on.
But it was that last line—your soft call for her help—that lingered. So human, so honest. Because no matter how much we grow, some rips in us still long for the hands that first made us whole.
Thank you for writing this. It reminded me that healing is a shared thread, and sometimes, we all need someone else’s hands to help us finish the stitching.
Regards,
Rolph

Tom Doolan

Thu 17th Apr 2025 08:51

A different time - I had patches on my trousers as a boy. We now live in a throwaway society.

Yanma Hidayah

Thu 17th Apr 2025 04:45

Couldn't agree more, Landi.
Thank you so much.

Landi Cruz

Thu 17th Apr 2025 04:34

There must be no greater endeavor than to repair what has been damaged by the decay of time..it is as the return of a hope in danger of being forgotten--the redemption of a spark of light )

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Mom, This One Needs Your Hands

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