Sewing Basket

One birthday, when I was quite young, my mom surprised me with a sewing basket- complete with thread, pins and needles, scissors, and a pincushion that looked like a tomato. It felt as if heaven had opened and all of a sudden, I was considered a responsible citizen of the world. My very own sewing basket! This event seemed to signify a notch on the measuring tape of life- a jump from Gumby and Chatty Cathy to safety pins and a thimble. Though I’m not sure I was ever in a rush to get there, my mom was foretelling that I was on that path.

Even with my own sewing basket, I must admit that I was never gifted in domestic arts-there are times that I can sew a button on if need be-but the rest I leave to my husband or a tailor. We did have Home Ec. Class in junior high school while the boys enjoyed Shop Class complete with power tools and sawdust. They went home with coffee tables and bookcases while I went home with some biscuits and a red bolero vest. Funny how much things have changed in the last fifty years! 

There are times that I wished I had paid more attention to life’s more detailed activities-such as sewing, cooking, and reading all of Moby Dick, but for some reason there were too many other things to pay attention to. Focus seemed to get in the way of dreaming, precision got in the way of exploration. It is all of those traits that seem to form while we’re young and later follow us through life. 

I am happy to report that I still have that sewing basket and each time I wrap my fingers around the wicker handle I hold onto a special memory of my beautiful mom. Before she was welcomed into heaven, she was sure to give my daughter her very own sewing basket-complete with thread, pins, needles, scissors and a pincushion that looks like a tomato- and I have a feeling that she will treasure hers as much as I treasure mine.