Folded

My Laundress.

It’s laundry day.

That sounds so odd, considering for a large part of my life, when all the kids were still at home, laundry day was every day. If at least two loads didn’t make it through the washing-drying-folding-parking cycle on a daily basis, the mountain would overtake the house.

Ahem . . .

This morning, I was snapping some pillowcases to get them to behave so they could be properly—and seamlessly—folded.

It brought back a memory . . .

For many years, I ran a day home. During that time, I was entrusted with the care of two adorable little blonde girls—ages three and five when they first appeared.

Their mother, single at the time, was doing her best to raise and train and love her girls, even while faced with the doubly momentous task of feeding them and providing shelter.

She had a good job which paid well.

And would have been totally justified in working full time and leaving her girls in my care during those days and weeks and months.

But instead, she worked as much as she needed to to pay the bills and keep the ‘wolf from the door’. The rest of the time, she spent as a mother. Going on field trips. Baking. Cooking. Loving.

And training.

I admired her greatly. (And still do.)

One day, I had descended into the basement to do laundry. Her three-year-old and my own followed.

The two of them immediately spun off into the playroom.

A short time later, I carried in a basket of clothes warm from the drier and proceeded to fold.

My daughter continued with her toys.

Hers came over to me and, to my surprise, grabbed a pillowcase, gave it an expert snap, then proceeded to fold.

Now, I should probably point out that this particular item was taller than she was.

It didn’t deter her. She finished with it and reached for something else, staying until the entire basket was sitting in a neatly-folded pile.

I think often of that single mother, struggling to provide a home—and training—to her two little daughters.

She succeeded.

P.S. Today, there are classes being offered to grown children who haven’t been taught basic life skills at home.

I know a three-year-old who could teach them.