I’m doing my absolute best to finish up my Easter sewing, but it seems that one thing and then another keep getting in the way of progress. Still I plug along, hoping and expecting that everything will get done, because I’ve done it before.
I keep reminding myself of the Easter my Rebecca was 6, 28 years ago. For whatever reason, I decided to abandon an almost finished smocked dress in favor of this peach Swiss batiste frock. From where the inspiration came, I don’t recall. But I HAD to make it!
That was Maundy Thursday. I had three days, mostly filled with the activities of this 6 year old child and her 10 year old brother, not to mention preparing my Sunday school lesson, fixing dinner, etc. I slept very little from then until Easter, but I did complete the dress. If I did it then, I can do it again, right? I am 28 years older, but I don’t have a 6 and 10 yo under foot. Yes, surely I can do it!
The fabric is what Jeannie B. calls “fairy” batiste–sheer and fine enough to clothe fairies who could not bear the weight of linen or even Nelona. The major features of the dress are entredeux beading, tatting, puffing–lots of that!–a sweet Swiss handloom.
The sleeves are set in with entredeux, one of my favorite heirloom touches.
I finished this dress and a matching slip. Okay, so it was finished very early Sunday morning, but to my delight, she wore this confection, all starched and pressed, to church Easter morning.
Believing I can get Easter sewing done makes me giddy! Please excuse my slap-happy rhyming.
 T’was the night before Easter in my sewing room.
My machine speed was now set on “zoom.”
The clock it was ticking, the dress not complete
And I was feeling dead on my feet.
The honey glazed ham was ready to bake
and I’d already made the white bunny cake.
 In hiding were chocolate bunnies and peeps.
And I hoped that in church I would not fall asleep.
But what was I thinking, two weeks ago,
when I chose to plant daisies instead of go sew?
“The price of lollygagging is all of this stress
I should have stayed home and sewed on this dress!”
But then I focused on each entredeux hole.
If all went well, I’d still meet my goal.
Fairy weight Swiss, pale peach like her skin~~
This fairy dress was for my sweet next of kin.
So I just kept on sewing, maintaining concentration,
To complete the dress before the morning celebration.
I finished that Easter dress. I can do it again!
I’ll stop silly rhyming, go join lace to the hem.
As mentioned before, I’ve been very frustrated trying to finish the shadow smocked dress for my granddaughter these past few weeks. My dear husband, in a caring attempt to reduce my stress, told me I should just go buy Laurel a pretty dress—she wouldn’t mind!
He doesn’t understand that the heirloom and smocked dresses I stitch are not made solely for Laurel’s pleasure. They are made for mine. Certainly she loves them and I hope she will always have loving memories of the garments I have made for her. But there is a whole other component that compels me.
I once heard a sermon about beauty. The supply minister spoke of flowers and mountains and sunsets before he posed the question, “Why?” Why did God create all this beauty for us?
He related that his pregnant daughter was stitching day and night, embroidering pretty little things for her unborn child. Her husband was in the military and she was living with her mother and pastor father. With no household responsibilities, she stitched non-stop.
All this was done for a baby who would need and want a blanket, but one who would give no thought or appreciation for the embroidery that embellished it. He concluded that love drives us to create beauty. Its only purpose is to express love. And love, he declared is what drove God to create natural beauty for our pleasure.
So Easter morning, when Laurel dons this dress—and it WILL be finished!!—it will probably make me happier than it makes her. It is an expression of my love, one that could not be expressed adequately by a store-bought garment.
I’m not sure that this is clearly explained. But I must get back to the sewing room!
P.S. One Sunday long after Easter, Rebecca wore this dress to church. When she came out of Sunday school, there was a huge black magic marker line across the skirt, just under the front yoke. (NOTE: What was that teacher thinking, giving Sunday-clothed children permanent marking pens for art work?!#$%^&??)
My miracle worker dry cleaner got it all out, but the process somehow changed the color of the ribbon. I always meant to replace it with matching peach ribbon, but it just never happened. Maybe now that it fits Laurel, I will get it done. After Easter.
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