I have been in a sewing room since I was a tiny girl. You see, I get my love for sewing from my Mom. I remember being fascinated by the sewing machine and how it seemed like driving a car. The harder she pushed on the peddle the faster the motor went. Mom taught me how to read a pattern, cut it out, and sew it up. She taught me how to iron gathers and seams. I can still feel her hand guiding mine while holding the iron. She taught me to sew a buttonhole, a blind hem, put in a zipper, you name it, Mom could show me how. (She also taught me how to sweep the floor because there were always threads and scraps of fabric and pattern that needed to be swept up.)
I feel very blessed and lucky to have acquired my Mother's love for sewing. In fact, just a few weeks ago, we were talking on the phone. She was being my sweet mother and lavishing me with complements about something I had made. I had to stop her and tell her that it was because of her that I love making pretty things. I love my Mother! My sweet, gracious, wonderful Mom.
