PRESSED BETWEEN THE PAGES
DeAnn (Wolkow) Kruempel
Much More Than a Piece of Cloth
She could have said, “You take care of the supper dishes, DeAnn. I am going to rest in my chair.”
Dad would have supported her; she had put in more than a day’s work on the farm. I may have complained (softly), but I would have washed the dishes. As the youngest, most spoiled child, my life was not too tough. But instead, our mother began clearing the table and said, “I’ll wash -- You dry.”
Three neat stacks were perfectly arranged in the middle drawer of the metal cabinet by the sink. The stacks were smooth, flat squares of cloth. On the left was the tallest pile. Colorful, embroidered stitches beamed from a bleached-white background on these lovely, but worn dish towels, the everyday towels.
The stack on the right was a mix of older towels, some with whimsical stitches faded from many trips through the Maytag.
There were also pretty prints—flour sacks, Mom said. Some were thin and patched. These were used to dry pots and pans, and eventually graduated to the rag bag. In the very back of the drawer were the brand new, beautifully embellished towels that were only used when company dried the dishes after sharing a meal.
Mom turned on the sink faucet, squirted in Dove dish soap, and gently placed glasses and cups into the hot water. I reached for a towel from the left stack, one for everyday dishes.
A delightful scent of Tide, bleach and fresh air, all mixed together, filled my senses as I unfolded the iron-creased fabric. And for the next half hour, wrapped in its magic, I learned.
I learned of a one-room schoolhouse and the expectations of girls when Mom was growing up. I learned about the war, worry, rationing and doing without. I learned how Mom met Dad, and about their life as they started out on the farm. Threads of history intertwined with family, love, hardship, perseverance and faith. At the time I had no idea that those moments with my mother in front of the kitchen sink, dish towel in my hands, were threads that fashioned the tapestry of my life.
Many years later, the memories pressed between the pages of my mind unfold like that dish towel. That large square of fabric that wiped water spots from glasses and turned silver to mirrors, was so much more than a piece of cloth. It was a work of art. Sparkling clean and pressed, that beautifully embroidered towel embodied the human desire to add beauty and meaning to everyday objects.
It taught economics. We learned to make the best of what we had. The old eventually became threadbare and graduated to the rag drawer; nothing should be wasted. Mom’s purpose in her classification system was to keep the new, beautifully embellished towels just that, new and pretty. “I like to keep them nice.” I can still see her smile.
That carefully hemmed length of cotton, whether a flour sack or newly purchased fabric, is a tangible connection to history. The stories our mother shared and the time we spent together became deeply intertwined with the threads of those old dish towels. They connected love an family with memories and tradition.
“I’ll wash. You dry.” Did our mother know what a difference those words would make in my life and those who carry on after me? That someday I would hold one of those cherished towels close to my heart and remember?
Yes, today I am quite certain that Mom knew. She knew all along that that dish towel was much more than a piece of cloth.
DeAnn Kruempel grew up on a farm near De Smet, SD, the sixth child of Harrison and Mabel Wolkow. She attended school at Erwin and De Smet and has lived in Benedict, ND, Toeterville, Akron, Missouri Valley and Logan, IA. The author worked in school and public libraries for more than 30 years. Her column has run in a growing number of Midwest newspapers for five years.
Each year the author has published the stories into a book. She has also published a historical fiction series, “Promises to Keep.” Her ten published books are available on Amazon. Signed copies may be purchased at the Harrison County Welcome Center. Contact Kruempel at deannkruempelauthor@gmail.com.
