For my mother.

The room was still and quiet. Sunlight poured through the windows in waves of gold like a blanket over the small living room. Keara sat on the old rocking chair by the window, calloused fingers moving along the torn edge of a quilt, stitching it back together with nearly invisible threads. Her blue eyes focused on her work so intently that she flinched in surprise when a small hand tapped her arm. Keara looked up. "What is it, Cade?"

He shrugged, looking down and shuffling his feet. Without looking her her-likely for shame-he held his arms forward. The hems on both sleeves of his coat were ragged and torn, treads hanging loosely over his fingers, begging to be mended. "The strings keep growing," the five-year-old stated miserably. "It's broken."

Keara tried her best not to laugh at him-he sounded so miserable, as though the world itself was ending before his eyes. "I can fix it, Sweety. It's not broken." She shook her head and set aside the quilt. It could wait.

Instantly, sapphire eyes brightened. "You can?" He beamed.

"Mhm..." She pulled on one sleeve, "...but you need to be out of it first."

Cade nodded, spinning slowly out of the sleeve she was holding, then tugging his arm clumsily out of the other. "How c'n you fix it?"

"With a needle and thread-the same way I mend quilts."

"You c'n get rid of the strings?"

"Yes." Keara took the coat, clucking softly. It needed help, this was true. She retrieved the grey thread she'd been using, and a needle. Turing the sleeve inside-out, she set it in her lap, and threaded the needle.

"Can I sit with you?"

Keara moved the coat. "Of course." Sticking the needle in the coat to avoid losing it, she set it on the floor beside her, then leaned forward, hauling the child onto her lap. He settled contentedly while Keara picked up the coat again. She tied off the thread, using a quilters knot, then set about stitching, folding the sleeve's hem back underneath as she did so. Every stitch was perfectly even-despite the fact her arms were in an awkward position, stretching around Cade-as she worked.

"How're you doing that?"

"I've practiced for a long time."

"But how can a string and a stick fix stuff?"

Keara laughed softly, her breath ruffling Cade's hair. "It's a needle... and this is thread." She held it closer to him so he could look. "The thread goes through the eye of the needle, and then all I have to do, is re-stitch the torn places." She knew there was more to it, but a five-year-old wouldn't want every detail, just the basics.

"Oh, okay." He sat still, watching intently.

Keara went back to work, finishing one sleeve in a matter of minutes, and biting off the thread. She went to work on the other sleeve, managing to balance the coat and Cade at the same time.

"Thanks f'r fixing it."

"You're welcome, but I haven't finished yet."

"Oh."

Keara continued the process, doing just as she'd done on the other sleeve. It would need more mending later, but the sleeves were a start.

"You can fix everything, Mommy."

Keara smiled. She knew better-but it warmed her heart to know her son believed she could. Sometimes, she had no idea what to do... of if she was doing anything right at all. It was moments like this that reminded her it was all worth it. Yes, she would make mistakes, and she had made many... but he didn't see them. The innocent child before her only saw her victories, her strengths. Maybe it wouldn't be like this forever, but she cherished if for now. She finished the second sleeve, and held it forward.

Cade managed-with no small amount of difficulty-to get into the coat without getting off Keara's lap. He leaned against her again. "Love you, Mommy."

"I love you, Sweety." She wrapped her arms around him. Cade closed his eyes and didn't bother to move from her lap. The quilt would just have to wait a little while longer.