Touched
Yes, I know I am a wee bit touched in the head. However, this is not what the title is referring to….this time.
For Christmas I got an absolutely wonderful sewing machine. The trouble was, when we moved, I didnt have this glorious machine, and I had no decent timeline before me to think I MIGHT have one anytime soon - so I got rid of nearly all of my sewing supplies that I had been hoarding over the last few years. So, I had nothing to really….well, sew. Truth be told, I’ve not even taken it out of the box, because I just knew it was going to drive me nuts to NOT have something to work on. I DO have a pile of quilt squares to assemble…but I just…meh.
I was bouncing around good ole Craig’s List the other day, and noticed an ad that was from some lady selling ALL of her doll-making supplies. Hundreds of dollars worth of stuff (per her ad) for a mere $100. Count me in! I called her up, made an appointment to meet her last night and to see what all she had.
I don’t even know if I can do this encounter justice with mere words, but I will try. I get to the house, knock on the door and patiently wait (as the little laminated sign by the doorbell says that it takes them a few minutes to get to the door). Then, there she was. This sweet, sweet little thing. Seriously little, she had to have been about 4 foot and a half at most. Huge inviting smile, looked just like a typical sweet older grandma, greeting her favorite grandchild. She ushered me in with warmth and brimming hospitality. Their home was lit up with a cheerful fire in the fireplace, Jewish mementos of all kinds, neatly placed all around. A Menorah, pictures that I can only guess date back to the time of the depression - and beyond, home made quilts, pillows, just….cozy. She had to have been pushing 90, and was moving REALLY slow.
She asked me to follow her to her “doll room”, and follow I did. She began telling stories of her adventures in doll-making, explaining in great detail her favorites, her failures, and a variety of other bits of knowledge. I entered the room and was instantly amazed. This woman was not just a some-time hobbyist. She was hard-core artist. Dolls of all sorts lined the walls, hand-made stuffed animals, of every type, sat in little groups here and there, what seemed to be boxes upon boxes covered the three work tables in the room. Piles of all sorts of crafty-goodness abound! She immediately began pulling lids off of boxes and dug right into them. Rooting and pushing aside yards of fabric in order to find a “gem” to show me, only to push it back down and give a quick story about a project, or to tell me where she had gotten it. Then, it was on to the next box. I cannot count the smiles and ooh’s and “oh yes! I love this pattern” (or piece of fabric or trim, or lace…..or tulle….or fur..) that she exclaimed as we went through the boxes together.
As I was standing there, sharing with her my own fond memories of doll-making with my Mother, it hit me like a lead brick. I wasn’t just purchasing a few yards of fabric, or a bag of fiberfill. She was GIVING me her legacy. The $100 was not even a fraction of the value. There is easily $1000 worth of books, patterns, fabrics of every kind imaginable, bags of fiberfill, boxes of tulle, lace, fur, trim, binding, and goodness knows what else. Some of the patterns date WAAAAY back. I spotted some that go into the 50’s for sure, possibly a couple even earlier than that. I was lost for words. My heart was singing, I felt so uniquely chosen and blessed. We chatted for a few moments, the conversation turned to children and to how many and how old mine were. I told her and shared that I hoped to interest my oldest daughter with this lost art. Those words brought a huge smile to her sweet soul, and she exclaimed that she knew I could do it! She told me how very pleased she was that I was so excited, and how important it had been to her to find “the right one”. She shared that she cannot do this kind of crafting anymore, and in large part, doesn’t want to. I got the profound feeling that this angel of a woman is very certainly preparing for “the end”. We finished going through boxes and she laid a hand over mine and looked me deep in the eyes and thanked me. She asked me to send her pictures of my creations, and I commented that I most certainly would, and that I might even ask for some advice, because I just “had a feeling” ;) that she might know a thing or two about this sort of thing. She laughed heartily at that, and said she would love that.
Her husband helped me load up a cart of theirs with the boxes of fabric and all of the other “tools of the trade” and I pushed it out the truck where Dan was waiting with Claire. I couldn’t even express to HIM how astounded and amazed I was. We FILLED the back of the truck, gave one last wave goodbye and parted ways.
Later that evening I sat on the sofa going through patterns, looking for my first project. I made note to Dan that she had wisely used old cereal and potato chip boxes and the like to cut out templates, and that I thought this very clever, as dealing with the flimsy tissue type paper that most modern patterns are printed on, can be a royal pain in the arse, especially if you are using the same pattern for base parts over and over again. I then spotted a batch of patterns that had been cut out of standard paper, and happened to notice that they were printed on one side.
It appears that they were rough draft letters or a memoir of some sort that she had reused to cut out doll parts. I was not able to piece it all together, and won’t share it here - for it wouldn’t seem right. But, her “story” moved me to tears. This woman was and is, a true gift. As I continued to sift through the patterns, I couldn’t help but feel her there, sitting next to me, smiling and telling me about her favorite ones, the ones that perplexed her - as happens to all crafty types of people - and the ones that she wanted to “do next”. There was warmth to those stacks of patterns I cannot quite describe, and doubt I will ever be able to.
They were absolutely drenched in love.
I cannot wait to begin my journey, and know that a part of her will be guiding and helping me as I create my own masterpieces. I will have memories, albiet brief, of her stories and advice to share with my own daughters as I show them this wonderful legacy and bring to them a whole new set of skills to cherish and enjoy for a lifetime.
Thank you Cris, and bless you, always.