No Store Bought Dress Poem by Edwina Reizer

Wind the bobbin. Let it spin.
My mama makes the dress I’m in.
She measures me from head to toe,
Cuts the material and starts to sew.

I’ve never worn a store bought dress.
I wish I had I do confess.
The kids at school like my clothes.
“Where’d you get them? ” No one knows.

I do not tell them lest they frown.
They still persist. I say “ a store uptown.”
Our doorbell rings. My mama’s at the door.
“Where do you get her clothes? In what store? ”

I cringe when I hear my mama reply
“I made them myself.” I start to cry.
I wipe my tears so mama can’t see.
She looks at me so tenderly.

These dresses were sewn with love for me.
Now that mama’s gone I’ve kept 2 or 3.
They’re stained with tears that I have cried.
I now understand they were stitched with pride.