H ~ Handkerchiefs

    Pretty handkerchiefs were treasured among Amish girls. There were no rules pertaining to them unlike almost every other aspect of our life. They provided a tiny bit of self expression which was a welcome change. 

    Both boy and girl toddlers often had handkerchiefs with fun designs. My brothers each had several with various barnyard scenes, while I had one with bunnies. 

    I was probably three or so when I traded that one in for something more grown-up when my Grandma Swarey gave me my first real Sunday handkerchief. Up until then I would play with Mom's pretty handkerchiefs at church. To be able to tuck my very own grown up handkerchief in my pocket to take to church felt so special!
    On a side note, does anyone have any idea how to restore fabric that has developed spots from being stored? It looks a lot like foxing in old books. I'd love to take care of it if possible.

    It wasn't too long after my first pretty handkerchief that I received the one I used to play with and fold into things while I sat next to Mom during the three hour long church services.  

    It was used to make a "mouse". It was always satisfying to create it, but even more satisfying to pull its tail and have it turn back into my handkerchief ready to be made into a mouse again. 
    Unlike the twin babies in a cradle that I used to fold it into and rock and play with for a while, there really wasn't much to do with a mouse other than give it to my baby brother and let him pull the tail to undo it, and then make another one for him to repeat the process.

Example of the twin babies in a cradle.

    On my tenth birthday I received another handkerchief. That Sunday I carefully tucked it into the pocket of my new "grown-up" style dress. I was now too old to play with a handkerchief in church and started sitting with the big girls instead of with Mom.
    I had no reason to use  my handkerchief that day, but the knowledge of it being in my pocket felt good. 

    I had quite a collection of handkerchiefs by this time, and I always enjoyed choosing just the right one before leaving for church. 
    Mom encouraged me to save my prettiest ones until I turned sixteen and joined the youth. I was glad I had and by then I started matching the color of my handkerchief to the dress I was wearing. Except when I wore black, then I always paired a pink handkerchief with it. 

    Unlike some of my cousins who lived in different communities where the youth girls would fold their pretty handkerchiefs in quarters and pin them to the outside of their pockets where they could be seen through the lightweight while organdy aprons they wore, mine were always tucked into my pocket because our aprons were all heavy weight enough nothing would have shown through.

    

    The last time I recall choosing my handkerchief with special care was on our wedding day. Having a blue wedding dress of course needed a blue handkerchief to go with it.