Threads

""You see," said her mother, picking up another ball of wool, men think they are in charge but it is us women who weave the fabric of life just as I knit this yarn into a jumper so we spin the yarn into a bairn in our wombs. Then we spin the bairns into a family with threads you cannot see." Helga wanted an explanation." Threads of love" her mother said, "Threads of healing and care." "When you were born we wrapped you in a worn piece of silk that came down from my mother. She said it was lucky, a piece of faerie dress she said. You know I kept a piece of the umbilical cord." "What? gasped Helga at this sudden revelation. "My own mother kept hers," her mum continued. "It was believed that it was a sacred thing the thread between a mother and a child."