Mama's Sewing Machine

Mama would be so proud of me.  Last night I pulled out the portable Brother sewing machine I was so excited to receive for Christmas two (or was it three?) years ago.  I'm not admitting I'm mechanically challenged, but even after reading the instruction book (and I do know how to read), I couldn't figure out how to get the cover off the bobbin case.  Yay...my "not" mechanically challenged  husband figured it out in short order and I was on my way!  But my frustration continued when the bobbin thread ran out and had to be reloaded, then the top thread broke repeatedly, and I had to rethread the machine.  I must admit the spool of thread looks like it's been chewed on by a puppy.  Since it's been a very long time since there has been a puppy in this house, therein might lie the problem...old and brittle thread.   

My Mama was a great seamstress.  I'm sure she learned the art out of necessity since she made her own clothes, and most of mine.  She also made my brothers' school shirts when they were younger.  I'm sure they probably laugh looking at those early elementary school pictures wearing their buffalo-check shirts with huge collars.  But, every other boy their age was wearing the same style, so they didn't look out of place. 

I have early memories of "helping" Mama cut out pattern pieces from the thin tissue paper.  She would take the patterns and lay out her fabric on the kitchen table to cut out a new garment.  She never followed the pattern for cutting, she always folded the fabric this way and that, making sure she used the least amount of fabric.  I didn't realize at the time, but she was an engineering marvel.  Sometimes she pinned patterns to the fabric, but usually she let me lay silverware on the pattern pieces to weight them down, then cut the fabric.  I thought that was the "fun" way to do it.  She would then take the pieces and carefully stack them for sewing.    

Mama's sewing machine was a Singer cabinet model with gold scroll work.  With Daddy's meager earnings, it must have been a sacrifice purchase.  But, Mama could make that sewing machine sing, and the clothes she made with it were not only made from fabric, thread, and buttons...they were made with love.

Sadly, Mama never passed her sewing art down to me.  My left-handedness got in the way.  But I must confess, I took advantage of it more than once, when I didn't really care to learn something.  Oh, if I could turn back the clock, I would have been more attentive.  I'd love to have Mama stand over my shoulder today and show me how to thread this machine, and make garments out of love. 

Copyright 2012 Charlotte Laney