We are expecting our 11th grandchild in September.  Justin and Netti are having a baby girl.  It's been more than eight years since we've had a baby in our family.  I am looking forward to snuggling a little one again.  This morning I went through my cedar chest searching for an item of clothing I'd saved from Justin when he was a baby.  

We are having lunch today with Justin and Netti.  I was hoping for something I could give Netti for the little one.  Too bad...I found a few things that had been worn by Justin but they were all very boyish.  I was sad about that but I was thrilled to find a dress from my past.  

I must have worn this dress when I was about 5.  I sat on the edge of my bed clutching it next to my heart.  I bit my lip.  My eyes smarted.  The dress had opened a floodgate of thoughts of mom. 

When Larry and I got married one of the first "big" things he bought me was a sewing machine.  It came with an instruction book and a simple pattern.  I taught myself to sew.  I admit I made a few lopsided aprons on my way to success but after my mistakes came victory and I did a lot of sewing for our family over the years as it grew.

I felt myself relax and begin to smile when I started inspecting the treasure in my hands.  I realized in my hands I might just be holding one of my mom's first successes in her sewing career.  The hem was stitched by hand and very even.  Where the skirt was sewn to the bodice she had sewn it several times so I wouldn't pull it loose.  The little puffy arms were perfect.  I could see the collar had been set and reset so the back would match up with the dress edge.  The pockets had been sewn into place so many times mom had to add patches of fabric to the inside of the dress to have something to sew the pocket to.  (I must have caught them on stuff and torn them many times)

The fabric was so thin on the lap portion of the skirt it had a few holes in it.  One of the holes had been patched with a button hole type of stitch.  Those were the days of homemade cloths.  My best dresses would always be my Sunday clothes and would only be worn to church or birthday parties or special occasions.  When Sunday clothes began to look worn they turned into school clothes.  When mom thought my dresses had too many holes and repairs for school they became play clothes.  

Girls were only allowed to wear dresses to school when I was growing up.  In second grade we had one day, cowboy day, when we were allowed to wear pants and dress like cowboys.  All the kids showed up with cowboy hats and cap guns.  Part of the day included a "cowboy bean feed" at Miss Storer's house.  We looked forward to that day for months.

It's funny how memories come.  Sometimes they come with the fragrance of burning leaves or the sound of a strangers voice.  This morning memories came to me by seeing the stitches of a well-worn dress.