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“Look at these crooked stitches!” admonished Grandmother. “I shouldn’t be able to see them.”
The apron in her hands was my birthday present to her. Entirely hand stitched, its navy check skirt gathered into a waistband that ended in ties of the same fabric. I trimmed its two pockets with white rickrack, careful to keep my running stitch tiny and even.
Those were not the offending stitches. Grandmother was examining the back side of the waistband, folded over and stitched to cover the gathered fabric of the skirt. I had used a hem stitch to close the seam—the one where the needle picks up two threads of fabric and then sews it invisibly into the ironed fold. Never a very patient person, I rushed this final step, picking up more than two threads and poking my needle carelessly into the waistband. The front of the apron was pretty, and the construction was solid. Did the reverse matter?
“Take these stitches out and do it right,” Grandmother said, putting the apron back into my hands. I must have looked quite stricken, because she said, “I like it very much,” and smiled. She hugged me, before turning back to her coffee and letters.
I ran out the kitchen door, bunching the offending apron into my coat pocket. How I hated sewing! All winter, I’d been sewing my grandmother’s hems on skirts and pants, ten cents for each garment. I did them very carefully, asking her advice whenever I had to ease fabric in on flared and A-line styles. I knew she was right. I just hadn’t expected her to look so closely at my gift. I had made the apron in two weeks, but it took four months to redo one seam.
I've learned it's okay to be less than perfect, but I'm also grateful for the encouragement toward quality and excellence.
The story idea came from this poem: Exposing the Seams.
I think the poem contains several more stories (smile).
My blog poems are rough drafts.
Please respect my copyright.
If you quote, credit this page.
© 2019 Susan L. Chast
"...grateful for the encouragement toward quality and excellence" . I love how your grandmother was able to teach you patience in achieving these qualities. I don't think they make such grandmas anymore. Beautiful.
ReplyDeleteShe sounds like a strong teacher, as was my grandma. Glad that you received it as encouragement towards quality - and also that you learned everything need not be perfect. Redoing that seam must have been a bit discouraging.
ReplyDeleteA strong woman indeed. My grandmother would have taken the apron, crooked stitches and all, and cherished the apron and worn it proudly.
ReplyDeleteA wonderfully rendered prose piece, Susan. I really related to it and enjoyed the read very much … perhaps, especially so, as your Grandmother sounds a awful lot like my Mother. It's true, my Mom did teach me to always try to do my best. But I think the bigger lesson I learned from her is to accept gifts (small and large) graciously - whether I like them or not - in the belief that almost all gifts are given with good intensions on the part of the gift giver … it's kind of the point of gifts.
ReplyDeleteI think it is wise to proceed through life in the knowledge that everything need not be perfect. In hindsight, it seems to me, my Mom's interpersonal relationships were a lot more prickly that mine are. Perfectionism often comes at a cost.
There are some teachers you just can't fool with shortcuts. It may not make you like the subject being taught, but you'll get a thorough education.
ReplyDeleteSuch grandmothers are so needed at such tender age. It's true that one need not be a perfectionist but it's good to learn to appreciate quality and excellence.
ReplyDeleteGrandmas are very wise, aren't they? And young souls (old sous, too, sometimes) too impatient. I am happy there was love and gratefulness in the end (and a good lesson, too).
ReplyDeleteThank you so much, Susan!
Very good lessons to take from this experience!
ReplyDeleteI like this lesson very much "it's okay to be less than perfect..." I see it as meaning, we need not be hard on ourselves. But we can also appreciate encouragement from those who want us to excel because they see our potential. Great write!
ReplyDeleteIt is a double edged sword when we learn from those that are perfectionists. We learn the art of detail, but we also learn that sometimes everything does not have to be perfect. It makes me sad to think that she did not accept your gift with delight. :-( A beautiful and sad lesson in these lovely lines Susan!
ReplyDeleteyour grandma is a strong woman, firm, yet gentle at the same time. sometimes in life, we may not get what we expected, but still gain from the experience.
ReplyDeleteThis is a very lovely story, Susan. :)