The Thimble

On this chilly, rainy day, I am going through a box of sewing treasures that belonged to my family. Each item I touch brings to mind those days long ago that I sat beside my mother or my grandmother, watching them do magic with a needle, thread, and of course, always a thimble. If I close my eyes, I get a whiff of my mama’s vegetable soup cooking on the stove while she sews. I also smell the skillet of buttermilk cornbread baking in the oven.

This thimble in its crocheted holder is a keepsake that belonged to my grandmother (Mama Headrick) and then my mother. I never saw either of them do needlework without their thimble.

• 

• 

Sweet memories. I think I’ll stay here for a while and enjoy this “step-back-in-time” moment.