🌺 Ume-san and Kisaburo's Veranda Series: 'A Mother's Prayer Sewn into a Bib'

On a March afternoon, soft sunlight was streaming onto the veranda.

Ume was opening a drawer in an old chest of drawers, looking for something. Kisaburo watched her silently.

"Found it, here it is."

What Ume pulled out was a bib sewn onto a piece of white cloth.

"...What is that?"

"It's the bib from my gym clothes. My mother sewed it for me."

Ume placed the bib on her palm as if it were something precious.

The thread was frayed in places, and the cloth had yellowed. However, the characters sewn into it could still be read clearly.

" 'Umeko'... That's my mother's handwriting."

Ume murmured quietly.

Kisaburo stared intently at the bib.

" ...It's hand-stitched."

"That's right. Back then, everything was sewn by hand. My mother used to do needlework until late at night."

Ume's eyes were slightly moist.

"Every time I grew bigger, my mother would resew this bib. Even if my gym clothes weren't new, the bib was always clean."

" ...That's just how mothers are."

Kisaburo's voice was softer than usual.

"Even in a single bib, there's a prayer that says, 'I want you to grow up healthy and strong.'"

"That's true."

Ume held the bib against her chest.

I don't really remember my mother. She passed away when I was very young.

...

But every time I look at this name tag, I remember the warmth of her hands. The hand holding the needle, the fingers threading it... they were all for me.

Kisaburo said nothing. He just quietly gazed at Ume's profile.

My mother wasn't good at writing. But she wrote the characters on this name tag with all her might. They're a little crooked, but that's what makes them... so lovely.

Ume's fingers traced the characters on the name tag.

Stitch by stitch, her mother's feelings were sewn into it. It wasn't just a name. It was an unspoken message from a mother to her daughter.

In this day and age, name tags are probably printed, aren't they?

Kisaburo said, almost to himself.

I suppose so. Things have become convenient.

But there's something that only a hand-sewn name tag has, isn't there?

Yes, that's exactly it.

Ume gently placed the name tag on the low table.

Things have become convenient and easy. That's a good thing. But...

But?

But maybe things like this 'prayer' have become fewer.

Kisaburo crossed his arms.

Ume-san, that's not the case.

Eh?

A prayer just changes its form. In the past, it was needle and thread. Now, it might be a different form. But the feeling of a parent thinking of their child never changes.

Ume looked at Kisaburo with surprise.

"Kisaburo-san..."

"...I was raised by parents too, you know. I understand."

Kisaburo said this and looked away.

Ume smiled quietly.

"That's right. You're exactly right. Even if the form changes, the heart remains the same."

The sunlight shone down on the bib.

The characters sewn into the old fabric looked as if they were glowing.

A mother's hands, a mother's thoughts, a mother's prayers.

They transcend time and remain here even now.

"...Mother, I am living well."

Ume whispered softly.

Kisaburo said nothing, simply nodding.

A spring breeze was blowing on the veranda.

The bib, which had been sleeping deep in the chest of drawers, bathed in the sunlight for the first time in a long while today, quietly telling the story of a mother's love.

Thank you for reading until the end. If your heart feels a little lighter, I would be happy if you could 'like' or 'follow' me. I'll always be waiting for you here (on the veranda).