and she said

"Lynna-girl, you are going to need some new clothes

before school starts

because you are growing up".

I knew that.

The front hem in all my dresses was hiked up

due to a problem up top.

So the next thing I knew

I was on my way to Sister Fran and Sister Bessie's house.

It was a long walk down a dirt road

probably a mile and a half

and you came around a bend

and there was a big gray house

with green trim

and a wrap-around porch.

Sister Fran was watching for me

and welcomed me in.

"Hello hello our little chickadee!"

At first I couldn't see.

I was blinded by the sun

and the dark of their living room.

But the dining room was a whole other story.

There was a huge chandelier

that sent light everywhere

and two treadle sewing machines

Butterick and Simplicity patterns

stacked up in every corner

and bolts of cloth

and ribbons and bows

and an iron perfectly at home in the middle of the table

and every chair held its share of patterns and cloth

draped over the back.

Skirts, dresses, suits

and even a hat

hung from hooks on the walls.

"Welcome to our humble home!"

Sister Bessie said

moving piles of stuff off the table

and onto a chair.

"We made you some molasses cookies

fresh-baked this very morning!"

Molasses was the only kind of cookie that I hated

but I took one of the brown stinky things and thanked her.

I was trying to put my best foot forward.

"Take off your dress, honey,"

Sister Fran said

"so we can see what you look like."

So much for my best foot!

I stood naked except for my undies in front of them

clutching my upper half.

"Arms down,"

Sister Fran said, going around me with a measuring tape

and I let them hang by my side.

I was mighty embarrassed.

Until I saw the something strange

hanging off the back of a door.

A cloud

of torn ruffles and broken netting

and beads hanging loose

and lace rotting

and a sleeve coming off

all turned yellow

with age

but still somehow beautiful.

I was amazed.

"Whose wedding gown is that?"

I asked.

"That's Bessie's,"

Fran said

squatting to measure my legs.

"I sewed it up for her one night

years ago

just in case she would need it."

"It's a mess now, coming to pieces

but neither one of us has the heart to throw it away."

"She didn't like it?" I asked.

And so started the story

of their lives.

"Bessie wanted to get married,"

Fran told me.

"Yes I did," Bessie said.

"I wanted a to have me a tall skinny husband

and two little children who adored me."

"She didn't want to spend her life

sewing

for other people."

"No I sure didn't,"

Bessie said. "I wanted to be like Mary

who had time to wash the feet of Jesus."

"I didn't want to work so hard."

Bessie interrupted the story to lead me to a corner

where at least 200 flour sacks

of various sizes and colors

were stacked up.

"Take what you like, honey"

she said.

"You will need six of the larger ones".

I found a pretty blue sack with pink flowers

and a pink with blue flowers

and a green striped one

and a yellow one

which Bessie took away from me

saying

"Yellow is not your color, sweetie.

You're blonde and pale

and it will make you look sallow."

Fran settled herself at the sewing machine

and took up the story.

"Bessie set her cap for quite a few men."

"But we were both big heavy women

right from the start

so she didn't have much of a chance."

"I sure tried hard."

Bessie said, handing me a pile of patterns to look at.

"Yes you did, you poor honey.

And you know you could have had that Markle boy.

He was tall and skinny."

"He would have run away from me anyway

because I couldn't stand to kiss him

with that little red spiky mustasche

poking into my nose!"

They laughed.

So did I.

I had lost my embarrassment.

"Now, while Bessie didn't want to live a life

of sewing for other people

I knew I had no choice

because God gave me the talent.

And I was ugly from the start."

I looked at Sister Fran

and she didn't seem all that ugly to me

but then again, all old people looked pretty much the same

to me.

Sister Bessie approved of my pattern choices

except for the one with a low neckline

and no sleeves

which she took away from me.

"Go on, Frannie," she said.

Our little chickadee is waiting."

"Well, Momma said that whenever she put me in the buggy

out there on our front porch

she prayed that nobody would come by

because she was ashamed of me."

Bessie looked at my measurements

and cut and pinned

and handed a whole top of a dress to Fran

who started stitching it up.

"Momma loved you anyway"

Bessie said, brushing cookie crumbs off the table

her shears clipping out the skirt of my dress.

"She always said

she didn't know what she would do without you.

You were such a help to her."

"Poor Momma was sick all the time"

Fran said,

biting off a piece of thread.

"And then our baby brother died in the influenza epidemic

and then Daddy died of his heart

so she had a hard life too".

"Yes she did, poor little mite,"

Bessie agreed.

"She never did understand why she had two big girls like us

and no grandbabies".

"Anyway, so Bessie had the sewing talent, too

"But it took her a while to accept it."

"It did, Frannie. It surely did.

I didn't want to do what the Lord had called me to do.

Besides, I was prettier than you."

"You always were

and that's a fact!"

They laughed.

Fran sat hunched over the sewing machine

working while she talked.

"We went to the Methodist church in Mobile"

she went on

sliding cloth under the needle

"when we were young

even though it took over an hour

on horseback

just so Bessie could have her fling

at the men in town."

"Remember all those dresses you made for me?"

Bessie chimed in.

"You must have made thirty dresses

in the three years it took me

to give up."

"And each one had more ruffles and froufrou

than the one before it!"

They both took off their glasses and laughed

and wiped their eyes.

"I had a pretty face

and that kept me looking

and hoping.

But, in the end,

I had to quit.

Momma and Frannie needed me."

"That was a truly sad day, Bessie."

"What happened"? I asked.

"Well, she had been out on a date with Mr. Henderson

who was old

and practically bald

and not very tall

and who talked about himself

all the time

and she got disgusted

and when he brought her home

she stood in the living room and told us that it was all over.

She was done looking for a husband

and she was ready to settle down in front of a sewing machine

forever."

"Then she went to bed for two weeks

and cried."

"When she got up

Momma ordered her a sewing machine

and when it came

Bessie sat down

and started to sew

and we're coming up on 38 years of sewing together."

My heart went out to the both of them.

A life like that seemed not worth living

to me.

There was a silence

except for the whirr of the sewing machine

and the click of the shears.

"Back then I was terribly disappointed

in myself and in the Lord."

Bessie said, folding dress patterns and material

and setting them on the edge of the table

ready for Fran.

"Why didn't He want me to have a husband

and adorable little children?"

"Because I would have made a good wife

and mother."

And I could see that she would have.

She was so gentle when she touched me

adjusting patterns

and material.

No pins stuck me at all.

"I guess I will take that sorrow to my grave"

she said, putting the last pattern piece on my shoulder

smoothing it down

standing back to look at it

"and if I get through the Pearly Gates

one of the first things I am going to do

is ask the Lord if He has a few minutes

to talk to me

about it."

"I want to get shut of it."

"Oh, you will,"

Sister Fran said, turning around

to smile at her sister.

"The Lord has His reasons

and they are good."

Sister Bessie took the pattern off my shoulder

and laid it on my pile.

"But a person has to get on with life"

she said,

"and with whatever the Lord has in mind for them to do".

My first dress was already almost done

and I had to leave

to help Mom with supper and clearing up

and they both hugged me tight

to their bosoms

and called me their little chickadee

and they smelled of talcum powder

and I hugged them back

because I loved them.

I went out the door

and Sister Fran hollered after me

"Now you tell your Momma

that we don't want her money

and if she tries to give us some

we probably won't ever come to church again

even though we love y'all!"

I walked home

thinking about how

when you look at someone

you might just see an old fat lady

but you don't know anything about them

at all.

Fran and Bessie have gone on to Glory, so Bessie has her answer. Their house has been torn down and the road paved.

Music Playing: We'll Understand It Better Bye and Bye

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