I have a little sewing to do today, which always makes me think of my mom. Once upon a time, Home Ec was a real college major. Stop laughing. It really was. No really. Ok, moving on. There are kids in school who don’t even know what Home Ec is. Home Ec is short for Home Economics and emphasized a lot of skills in sewing, cooking, budgeting, and baking.
When my mom first went to college, she was a Home Ec major. She had no plans, nor any desire for that matter, to go to the mission field at the time. She couldn’t have known that her knowledge and skills would come in so handy. I gave you a tiny glimpse of this in Baking Day. There was no cooking challenge too great for her. In fact, she taught a series of classes to Maasai women about cooking over a small charcoal burner called a Jiko. And her cakes! Oh, merciful heavens, her cakes! I’ll have to tell you about them sometime.
But I digress. I was talking about sewing. My mother is a very skilled seamstress. Much of my wardrobe came right off her sewing machine. Dresses (everyday and formals), pants, tops, bathing suits, and even some of my “delicates”. I truly think she can sew anything. All the homey touches in our houses were courtesy of her skill. Curtains, pillows, quilts, and wall-hangings. Most of the ladies in our *mission (see footnote), at some point, wore a custom-made bathing suit courtesy of Linda. She’s pretty incredible.
This is a picture of me in a dress she made holding my Birthday present. She made this doll for me. The pattern called the doll Little Bo Peep, but I named her Amy. I really wish I had a better picture, because this one doesn’t do sweet Amy justice. She had a dress full of ruffles, bloomers, and a bonnet. Her chest had a little heart embroidered on it. Piles and piles of yellow yarn skillfully tacked to her head made her hair. She had soft pink circles on her cheeks that framed a sweet embroidered smile. Precious little white shoes I had worn as a baby adorned her feet.
So, I’m off to sit in front of my little sewing machine. The beautiful comforting whir will take me back to a time when I sat on the floor playing with the button box while my mom created something beautiful.
* Our mission refers to a group of people rather than a goal or a place. When I say ladies in our mission, I mean missionaries in Kenya who are affiliated with the same sending organization. Our mission was Christian Missionary Fellowship.