Part of the historical exhibition at the 9/11 Memorial and Museum in New York City tells the story of the worldwide sympathy and response to our nation’s tragedy. One section contains cards, letters, and gifts sent to NYC, its fire departments, and rescue teams.
One child had sent a hand-drawn card that read, “Maybe you need a friend. Maybe you need a hankie. But there’s no one like you.” The words are all the more profound because of their simplicity.
We don’t use the word hankie much anymore. We keep tissues in boxes or packets. And Kimberly Clark Corporation is thrilled (cha-ching) when we call a tissue a Kleenex™, its brand name of tissue.
The first Kleenex paper tissue was invented in 1926 for the purpose of removing women’s cold cream from faces. That’s where the KLEEN part of the name came from (as in a clean face). About 1926 it was discovered that people were using the tissues to blow their noses.
My sister Barbara wanted to do something to commemorate our mother who died in 1996. She found a craftsperson who creates memory displays in a picture frame. The crafter asked if we had any heritage handkerchiefs from our mom or a grandmother to include. Fortunately my sister Beverly had held onto some of our two grandmothers’ hankies. You can see one in the photo at the top of this post.
In my home I like to create interesting SIMPLE tablescape-type arrangements. I have a large countertop microwave and that bare white metal top is an ideal spot for something interesting.
unadorned microwave top
“tablescaped” microwave top
You can see I used a colorful heritage hankie to place under a simple glass plate and then propped up decorative measuring spoons along the front edge of the plate. This was created using items I already had plus the “new” $2 heritage hankie.
My friend Sonia’s dad died a few months ago. The loss is still heartbreakingly new to her and the family. She and her mom were going through some drawers on Saturday, and they came across her father’s cotton handkerchiefs. “Daddy’s hankies!” She asked her mom if she could have one and placed it in her purse.
On Sunday, Sonia was part of an audience where I told a sad story. Tears filling her eyes, she reached into her purse hoping to find a clean tissue. Instead, her fingers felt the soft material of her dad’s hankie. Just as her father had used one to wipe away her little girl tears, she now wiped her own. What a sense of comfort that simple white handkerchief provided.
As the child’s card said, maybe YOU need a friend (count me as one), or maybe you need a hankie (I wish I could send one to each of you), but remember: There’s no one like YOU.
To my readers: Is there a simple item from your past that brings you comfort?
I have a Get Well card from my Grandma Elizabeth Shingler that she sent to me in the hospital when I had my appendix removed. I was nine years old – and it still gives me comfort when I read her closing, “Oceans of Love, Grandma Shingler.” That’s a lot of love. Grandma had a way of making all of her grandchildren think they were the MOST special.
And I wonder why, in land-locked Pennsylvania, she chose “oceans.” But yes I vividly recall the “oceans of love” closing. And I in fact borrowed that closing for several years. Thanks for the memory.