I think I was about 6 yrs old, my family was visiting my great grandmother. My younger sisters and I were in a bedroom jumping on the bed instead of playing with toys. Boy did we get into trouble. My great grandmother came in to the room and took my hand and told me she wanted to show me something. What she wanted to show me was a quilt she had just finished for my mother. She said I was the first to see it, did I think my mom would like it. I sit here today remembering this and almost in tears. I almost can smell the baking bread. Back to the quilt, it was made of blocks of colorful fabric, looking back I am sure it was feed sacks, there was also embroidery done in red thread. My mom’s favorite color was red. I thought it was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I hugged the quilt and then my grandmother gave me a few scraps from the quilt. I still have those scraps in an envelope somewhere. This was about 58 years ago. That is my first memory of cloth.
Another memory of cloth is my first shopping trip for fabric. I was 6 or 7 years old. My mom had given me old linens and other things to sew with. One day I showed her a dress for a doll. She looked at it and said where did you get the lace? I had cut up a slip of hers for the lace. She told me in a calm voice that I should have asked and the next day she took me to a variety store and purchased the start of my first stash. My own scissors, lace, fabric and needles. She gave me a small box that we covered with fabric and this was my sewing kit. When I tell people I have been sewing forever, I am not exaggerating.