Ladies’ Handkerchiefs or chieves?

Recently I received a welcome card apprising me of a 98th birthday of a lady that I have known for a long time. The suggestion was to enclose a handkerchief in a birthday card, as this dear lady still uses a handkerchief every day.

Imagine my surprise when I visited five stores and found NO ladies’ handkerchiefs. One young clerk took in my gray hair and told me that her grandmother makes handkerchiefs. I thanked her kindly, but decided that was one thing I would not do.

I could picture the boxes with thin linen, muslin, cotton handkerchiefs often decorated with lace or embroidery. Sometimes the handkerchiefs were so decorated that there was not room to ‘blow’. The familar quote in the ’30’s still resounds in my ear, “One to show and one to blow.” While working in a school office, I used the same quote for copies of information, “One to file and one to lose.”

I remembered when Mom tatted lace around a handkerchief. Mom tried to teach me how to tat once and gave up as my fingers suddenly turned into thumbs with no dexterity what so ever. Mom sewed handkerchiefs. Actually, I can remember rolling a hem and taking tiny stitches so small that they were not visible to the naked eye.

Suddenly I pictured a seven year old girl with blonde hair and curious blue eyes. Every morning her mother sent her to school with a clean handkerchief. Being compliant, the little girl took the handkerchief and walked to school. The last thing the little girl wanted anyone to know was that she blew her nose on occasion when the situation demanded such crass behavior. She quickly stuffed her clean handkerchief into the recesses of the dark brown wooden desk.

After two weeks, mother inquired as to the disposition of the small squares of cloth. “I am running out of clean handkerchiefs, Emily, what are you doing with the handkerchiefs.”

Busted. No telling any untruths for Emily. “They are in my desk.”

“Well, bring them home!”

The brown leather book satchel hung in the school closet. Emily took her satchel to her desk, and began stuffing it full of books — no, wait — handkerchiefs — Two Weeks’ Worth of Clean Handkerchiefs.

Now she had room for books and pencils and tablets. That afternoon she delivered the handkerchiefs to her mother. Sigh. Her mother washed and ironed them, and again began the rotation of handkerchiefs.

This day of instant everything – a disposable square of a thin slice of a tree seems much more useable. Will there ever be personalized, embroidered, lace-edged tissues?

There are still handkerchiefs on the market, on internet. Even handkerchiefs are available for brides to carry on their wedding day.

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