Wednesday, July 16, 2014

A Poem about Garments

by Anna Jones Buttimore


Garments are not something we Mormons like to talk about much. After all, is anyone ever completely comfortable discussing their underwear with strangers? But they are, nevertheless, a quirk of the LDS faith which seems to fascinate outsiders.

Personally I think they're great. Cheaper to buy than regular underwear, more comfortable, and available in a huge variety of fabrics suited to all climates. No VPL, and for us bigger girls no chubb-rub when wearing skirts. It's also a rare honour to be able to wear them. I waited ten years to get to the Temple, so I really don't take for granted what it means to wear this symbol of a precious covenant relationship.

Anyway, endeavouring to be (more) respectful in explaining what garments are all about, I have written a little poem. Well, maybe not so much written as stolen, since it's based on "The Cross in my Pocket" by Mrs. Verna Mae Thomas. I hope you'll feel free to use it whenever you are next asked why Mormons wear "magic underwear". (*Sigh*)


I wear special clothes on my body
A simple reminder to me
Of the fact that I will keep covenants
No matter where I may be.

These garments are not magic,
Nor are they a good luck charm
They are not meant to protect me
From every physical harm.

They’re not for identification
For all the world to see
But simply an understanding
Between my Saviour and me.

When I dress each bright new morning
In garments fresh and white
They serve that day to remind me
To remain clean in His sight.

They remind me, too, to be modest
In my words, my deeds, my dress
And to strive to serve Him better
That others I may bless.

When I’m feeling sad or despairing,
Or in a scary place,
These garments remind me that always
I’m encircled about by His grace.

And when my path seems rocky
And I feel all hope is gone
I remember promises given
The day I first put them on.


I wear this symbol of purity,
Hidden away from sight,
Because in the blood of the Lamb of God
My garments and sins are washed white.

So I wear special clothes on my body
Reminding no one but me
That Jesus Christ is Lord of my life
And He has set me free.

5 comments:

  1. I have to admit, Anna, that when I saw the title for this post I cringed. I groaned. I may have even began a facepalm (until I remembered that no one would see it and thus there was no good reason to smack myself in the face). But I decided to be brave and squint through my fingers to read it and I’m glad I did. I don’t know why I was ever worried in the first place, knowing how strong you are in the faith.

    So...it’s awesome. I love the poem. It is beautiful and just perfect, and I may print out a copy to keep for myself. :-) Nice work, friend.

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    Replies
    1. Thanks Kasey. Yes, I know, it's a tough subject and one we do cringe at. There was a TV programme here a couple of weeks ago following a missionary, and it kept on going on about garments, showing pictures even, it was just so juvenile. I've felt for a long time that the "Cross in my Pocket" thing is a very similar idea, and the idea for this poem had been bubbling away for a long time. Please feel free to print, share, publish, whatever.

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  2. I found this interesting and liked the poem

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  3. Didn't know anything about the garments. I think it's a lovely idea. The poem explains it beautifully.

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  4. This is beautiful as I know almost by heart the cross in my pocket poem. I loved your poem well put and just lovely.

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