Draw us in the Spirit’s tether; for when humbly,
in thy name,
Two or three are met together, Thou art in the
midst of them:
Alleluia! Alleluia! Touch we now thy garment’s
hem.
Something is too familiar, too intimate, about touching the hem of anyone else’s garment, and the composer of the familiar and beautiful hymn above knew that well. I remember standing on a chair in our kitchen as a young child, wearing a new dress that my mom had just finished making me. She would be sitting on the floor, pins between her teeth and ruler in her hand, carefully pinning my hem at just the right place below my knee. She would ask me to turn, always with the rejoinder, “Stand up straight, Cheryl!”, and I would quietly turn. We didn’t say anything else. I knew that she made the dress with great love, and she knew that I was grateful for it. No words could take the place of that simple, very intimate encounter; it shaped my relationship with my mother.
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