THE THREAD OF LIFE

     Almost 42 years ago my journey into pin cushions and patterns began.  My Mom was an amazingly gifted seamstress; from the curtains that adorned our bedrooms, the annual Halloween costumes, Easter dresses and Christmas gift outfits, as well as mending and patching clothes for 5 children.  She brought me my own little sewing kit, when I was only eight.  Learning to sew was a right of passage for me and all my girlfriends back in the day.             

      As a young girl, one of the first things I learned was that her sewing equipment was off limits to amateurs, but that didn't stop me from looking on in amazement every time she opened the giant carrying case.  It seemed to me that she had amassed thread in every color of the rainbow, scissors big, and small, enough needles and pins to fill a large pickle jar, thimbles, threaders, and extra buttons, plus so much more.   The first thing I ever made was a pot holder, stitched by hand, followed by many Barbie doll outfits.  Eventually, Mom taught me to use her prized Singer and by Junior High, I was making myself clothes and sewing Teddy Bears to sell for spending money.  A stint in the Girl Scouts, plus Home Economics classes served to reinforce what I learned at home.  By the end of High School I too was a proud owner of a good used Singer machine.

For the next 20 years, people came and went in my life, my son grew up, but my machine remained my faithful workhorse companion and I too accumulated a tote full of equipment, material scraps, and stray pattern pieces from projects past.  

Working outside the home meant limited time I could spend sewing, but I still managed to whip up the occasional School Play or Tricker-Treat costume, even managed a prom dress for one of my step-daughters.  A couple of years ago I finally traded in my old model for a sleek new one with gadgets galore and fancy stitching.  

As long as time is kind to me; my sight stays clear and arthritis does not set in, my Singer and I will spend many more hours together turning fabric into unique, useful items to savor or give away.  Someday hopefully, one of my Grandchildren will show an interest and allow me the privilege of passing on to them, my love of the art of sewing, for I too long for my own set of handmade potholders.  A skill truly is one of the few gifts that won't be returned or exchanged, and whose value rises the more you use it.