This is part two in the Legacies and Children series. You can read part one here.

This month we’re going to look at the lessons we can learn from the clothing Laura, Almanzo, and their families wore and talk about what their clothing can teach us about relationships. At first, the connection may sound strange, but when you look closer, you’ll find that the pioneer’s approach to clothing can teach us a lot about how to approach relationships today.

The first thing they have in common is that both clothing and relationships require hard work. Almanzo’s mother knew this was certainly true about clothing. In the story of Farmer Boy, we read how Almanzo came to have his woolen clothes to wear for his first day of school. His father had raised and sheared sheep. His mother took the wool and spun it into yarn. Yarn for underclothing was left a creamy white, but the wool for outer clothing was dyed, some red and some butternut brown. Once the yarn was the right color, his mother wove it into cloth and then fashioned it into clothing.

Clothing did more, however, than make a statement or protect one’s modesty. It also served as a shield to deflect the elements, whether it be blazing sun or frigid wind. Almanzo’s mother took special preparation to ensure her children’s coats and hats could keep them both warm and dry in a storm. After weaving the woolen yarn into material, she soaked it until it became a thick, heavy fullcloth, capable of protecting Almanzo from any rainstorms he may encounter.

The clothes of the pioneers were not wasted or taken for granted, either. After all the work it required to make Almanzo’s mittens, he knew not to lose them. A string that threaded through his coat and connected the mittens to each other helped make sure of that!

Pioneers also worked hard to preserve their clothes and protect them from the hazards of everyday wear. Many of the pieces that were most easily soiled in day-to-day living such as cuffs and collars were made to be detachable so they were easily washed and bleached as needed and replaced when necessary. Detachable ruffles could be used to make a plain dress fancier, then removed again to be washed and stored for the next special occasion.

And we can’t forget the ever-present apron for the ladies! A sturdy apron was present at all times to protect the dress, except on Sunday, when a lighter, though still functional, apron could be worn.

Clothing was planned ahead for, lived in, protected, and cared for. It was also mended when it tore before the tear had a chance to become irreparable. Contrast those behaviors with how we frequently treat our clothes today. Often, clothes are purchased as needed or when they catch our eye. Many of us have more clothes in our closets than we could ever hope to wear out. A stain or a tear on most of the clothing we wear is nothing to fret about; clothes are easily discarded and replaced. And though keeping the laundry caught up can practically still be a full-time job in itself, the time required to load clothes into and out of washers and dryers is still considerably less than when the water had to be pumped or hauled by hand and each item of clothing individually laundered. Keeping clothing clean took the pioneers a great amount of effort.

When you think about it, the way we treat our clothes today sounds a lot like how we tend to treat many of our relationships. Rather than mending the tears that damage them, we ignore them until it is too late and then discard the relationship. A new acquaintance catches our eye and a friendship is struck, only to be put on a shelf when we lose interest.

I’m not suggesting that having lots of clothes or lots of friends is wrong in itself. God’s blessings abound in many ways. But sometimes they abound so richly that we can fall into the trap of regarding those blessings, including friendships, as disposable rather than precious. I wonder if we would live healthier, more balanced lives if we approached more of our relationships the way the pioneers approached their clothing—with forethought, hard work, attention, and careful maintenance. If we do, perhaps we’ll find our relationships are strong enough for God to use them to protect us from the storms we encounter.