Fabric Scraps and Button Jars

 I love both of my grandmothers.  One has passed on, and one is still going strong.  At times they seemed very different, but they did share at least a few common threads... 

and sewing was one of them.

As the mother of seven children apiece, money was stretched as far as possible I'd imagine.  Back then it was common for children to wear outfits their mothers had sewn themselves.    Clothes were handed down child to child, worn until there was just no more use left in them.  Scraps of fabric left over after the pattern was cut out were saved for another day.  Buttons were taken off tired garments and placed in jars...

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My Grandma Ross is very well known for crafts she's made through the years.  She's an artist, a seamstress, a natural in the garden, and a savvy business-woman.  She's tough, and I didn't always know what to think of it, but I respect and admire her for it now.  

One thing I remember from my childhood, is that every time we went to visit I was allowed down in the basement, where she did all of her sewing.  There was a room where she'd lead me and say, "Here you go, have fun."  She'd hand me huge bags (well, they were huge to a kid anyway) of fabric scraps, and I'd pull them out; stringing them all over the floor.  I can still remember admiring all the colors and patterns... they were just so beautiful, even if they were little pieces.  She'd say, "Take all you want, they're yours!"  I'd gather my favorites in to a plastic bag as if I were hoarding jewels...

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My Grandma Leasure was a quiet woman.  She was a seamstress mostly out of necessity, but a pretty good one at any rate.  One Christmas my mother asked for a Barbie.  Specifically a real Barbie, not a knock-off.  Christmas morning came... without the Barbie my mother had so longed for.  Instead, my grandma had handmade outfit after outfit for the 'other' doll to make up for it.  Mom knew why she didn't get the Barbie.  When six other children needed gifts, not everyone could get what they wanted.  The disappointment was softened by her mother's extra time and effort put in to the outfits...  

I've always loved Mom retelling that story.

After Grandma passed away, we came across her sewing notions.  Alongside the tomato pincushion, bobbins, and needles, was a jar full of buttons.  Some very old, others new.  Mom thought she recognized a few buttons from a coat she wore as a child.  Some came from my Grandpa's work shirts, or the boy's dress clothes.  Each was a shiny treasure with a story to tell...  

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Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it.  ~Confucius

Treasures aren't always tangible, like my grandmothers' shiny buttons or pretty scraps of fabric.  They can be more than that.  Your memories are the real treasures.  Today, make the most of what you already have.  Focus on what matters most... the here and now... and spend it with those who really matter. 

Tomorrow's cherished memories might just be in the making ~ today.