Moms Button Box
Located in the dining room,
on the old "New Home" treadle sewing machine,
was an old cookie tin of old buttons.
It contained buttons of every shape and size.
Sometimes on rainy days,
when I couldn't go outside to play,
I would take the old cookie tin,
get the square cream and green granite pan,
that mother used to bake cobblers in,
and sit right down in the middle of the floor
and pour the buttons into the pan.
To some people these were just buttons,
but to me they were whatever I wanted them to be.
There were ships, cars, cats, dogs,
big buttons, and little buttons.
There were buttons of all colors and shapes.
I thought they were so beautiful.
I would pick out all of the animal shapes
and line them up on the floor.
These were my circus train.
I would pick out the ones with flowers on them.
I really liked the ones with rhinestones in them,
they were my diamonds.
I would pick out buttons of one color,
lining them up on the linoleum floor.
I would have rows and rows of different colors.
Sometimes I would ask mother for a piece of string
and make a necklace. To me it was so pretty.
Sometimes mother would give me a piece of scrap cloth
and a needle and thread, and under her careful supervision
I would sew buttons on the cloth.
This was the only time
I was ever allowed to play with a needle.
I would sit for hours and play with mother's buttons.
Most of them were cut off old clothes.
I could go through them and remember
the ones that used to be on my old dresses.
When our clothes would wear out,
mother would cut the buttons off them and save them
to put on some other garment.
The ones she cut off the boys overalls
were brass and usually had designs on them.
I'd pretend they were money.
I'd feel like the richest girl in town.
I can remember a set of buttons
that looked like little vases of flowers.
I thought they were so pretty.
Some buttons were made of wood.
Mother told me that daddy
had whittled them out of a walnut shell.
Some were shiny
and had the colors of the rainbow.
She called them Mother of Pearl.
They were so unique.
Some were white and dull looking.
She said they were hand carved out of bone.
Some buttons, mother told me,
were made out of a material called bakelite.
I wasn't familiar with the material.
Some were covered in cloth.
I assumed that someone had covered them
to match a dress or coat.
Some buttons were huge,
mother said they were coat buttons.
Some were clear with a yellow look to them,
she said they were made from celluloid.
Some were made from glass.
They were pretty and shiny.
I can think back today
and remember how a lot of those buttons looked.
I wish I still had my mother's old button box.
I know if I had it,
I could automatically be transformed
back to the past, to my childhood.
I guess the memory of the old button box
sparked my love for old buttons.
I never seem to get enough of them.
I will always remember those rainy days,
when I would pass the time playing in the old button box.
Sometimes I would find a penny in the buttons
and off I'd go to the store
for bubble gum or penny candy.
You know I wonder if by chance
mother might have hidden the penny there
just to get me out from under her feet.
I wonder.
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