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Hooked Rug Poem Shared by Karen Ogden

Recently a family friend passed away and this poem was found in a frame along with other treasures that she held dear. Mary Meade nee Gillis was born in Loch Leven (Bay St. George South) a small community as beautiful as its name envisions. Mary has 10 children and many grand and great grand children. The treasures that lined her walls and shelves were many. What was it about this poem that it held such an honoured place? I like to think that it brought memories that were dear to her heart. If only I had noticed it there, sitting around the pictures of many smiling faces, I would have asked her about her early years and about her experiences hooking rugs for her family. If Mary had hooked a rug the same as she welcomed everyone to her home it would have been a bright beautiful rug, one that would certainly fill a large hall.

My mother took a piece of cloth

A yard or two I guess

She cut it and sewed it

And made herself a dress

She wore that dress a year or two

Perhaps she wore it three

Then turned it on the other side

And made it up for me

A long time it served me

Till it got old and shabby

And then she washed it clean and made

A coat for baby Abbie

And when the baby grew too big

To wear it any more

She cut it into carpet rags and

Hooked it for the floor

So in our new hooked carpet

Those purple flowers you see

Are made of Sunday clothing

Of Mother, Abbie and me