Mom’s Sewing Box
Some little girls get into mom’s makeup and jewelry. I was into her sewing box. Along with the treasures within, I adored the embossed knight and castle scene on the top.
The 16×12 inch tin was once filled to the brim with German lebkuchen, lebkuchen being gingerbread cookies. Tins like this are still given as gifts around Christmas. In fact, I have a couple of modern versions that also hold needlework supplies.
This one, however, is special. I was not yet born when it contained cookies. For as long as I can remember it held threads and yarns, my dad’s rank and unit patches for his Army fatiques and uniforms, crochet hooks, knitting needles, pretty buttons and lots of odds and ends.
When my mom cleared out her sewing room this summer, she gave it to me. I couldn’t wait to get home and rummage through it. There wasn’t as much stuff as I recall from childhood, but memories there were.
Army green thread and sewing kits.
An ancient retractable cloth measuring tape and a box cutter that came free in a tin of my dad’s pipe tobacco.
And a big, fat pencil from the bowling alley I bowled at as a preteen.
All small objects with little value … except sentimental. Thanks, Mom for saving this all these years and giving it to me for safekeeping. I love it.
