When I was 5 Nannie (my maternal grandmother) made me a dress in my favorite color. At the time that color was purple. I hated every fitting. I hated the whole process. But I loved purple and I loved my Nannie. As a little girl I didn’t understand the meaning of having a dress made for me. I was more like “Why can’t we just go to the store and buy one”, one that is not “homemade”. At some point in my early adulthood I read something that changed my mindset on how I viewed things. It pushed me into the professional path that I am on now, and loving every minute. “My food is homemade, my craft is handmade.” WHEW! It took a while to train my brain not to respond to the burden of “homemade” ie not being good enough to “handmade” ie WOW you made that??
Six year old Jama couldn’t understand why Nannie wanted so desperately for me to learn to sew. She brought me stacks of 4 inch squares she had cut up, along with a needle and a spool of thread. She sat in our living room and showed me how to make tiny stitches to join the squares together. I would practice once in a while but I didn’t stick with it. Sewing was slow and boring to me.
35 ish years latter I wish I had that dress now. I do believe that I found the thread she made it with though, a treasure for sure. To know that someone cared enough about me to make an effort to take the time and expense to make a dress in my favorite color, what a gesture! She wanted to share what she loved with me. I didn’t realize until recently how sewing was Nannie’s creative outlet, and how much she loved it. Now I better understand why she was desperately wanting me to learn so I could pass down that skill. Do I sew? Not as much as I could… or should. Crochet will always be my first love in the crafting world. But maybe I will give sewing another try.
Don’t worry, be crafty! ~ Jama











