A simple gift

For the Writer's Cramp, December 18

I found an old sweater,
Said it was from Mom,
With love, said the letter,
And signed off, to Tom.

I put it on slowly,
Thought it would be fun,
But it was quite holey,
Moths had had a run.

I brought it to Grandma,
She didn't live far,
She patched it on camera
And laughed - har har har.

For I'd put it on,
That mended delight,
And as it was on me,
Designs came to light.

My mother had not been
The finest of sewers,
But adorned it with... hens?
And a bunch of red flowers?

It said "Merry Christmas",
I read in a flash -
And wishing to see less
Threw it in the trash.