A Kiss in Every Stitch

Women like to create with their hands. We are knitters of afghans, kneaders of dough and knotters of macramé plant holders. Even those who think they “don’t have that talent” have tried their hand at making something. And we treasure the things made by the hands of our mothers, grandmothers and great-grandmothers. We bring out heirloom crocheted tablecloths for the holiday dinners. We wrap our newborn babies in blankets our grandmothers knit for us when we were born – blankets that have been wrapped in tissue and stored in hope chests for just these moments. Not everything we make is “state fair blue ribbon” caliber, but, as my mother always says, everything is made with a “kiss in every stitch.” And that’s the key – the love with which we make anything is a gift like no other. It is unique and from the heart.

We have many, many treasures, made by the women in my family with kisses in every stitch. We protect those tablecloths and afghans and aprons, keeping them clean and folded neatly in chests and dresser drawers, but we also use them. It’s important for our children to see and touch and value the gifts that came from the hands of their mothers and their mothers’ mothers.

When my baby daughter was just a couple of months old, I discovered the power of those kisses in every stitch. She was my first baby and I was so lucky! She was so good – happy almost all the time and easy to soothe when she wasn’t. I was pretty proud of what a good mom I was right out of the gate. No learning curve for me. I was a natural. Then, one middle-of-the-night, she started to cry. I went to her crib and lifted her in my arms. She seemed fine, so I did the usual – changed her diaper and fed her, knowing that she would fall back to sleep quickly. But not that time. That night she kept crying. I walked with her. I rocked her, I sang to her. Nothing would soothe her. I didn’t panic. After all, I’d read the books. Babies cry sometimes. Resigned to a long, sleepless night, I carried my crying child back into her bedroom, turned off the light, sat down in the rocking chair and reached into the bottom drawer of the nearby dresser to pull out a fresh baby blanket. I just took the first one I touched, shook it slightly to release the folds and, as I put my baby to my shoulder and wrapped the blanket around us, I could tell from the texture that it was a blanket my grandmother had embroidered for me when I was born. I thought of her, and how my mother would say that “there was a kiss in every stitch” of that blanket. I thought of all the other women in my family – grandmothers, great grandmothers, aunts, great aunts, and of course, my own mother, and as I pictured them all surrounding me and my baby with loving smiles, she quieted and slept in my arms. At that moment, I felt them all there with me, helping me be a loving, patient mother, warming my child with the love from their hearts. I felt the strength of those generations of women in the tangible fabric of that baby blanket.

My mother taught me to knit and embroider when I was a child. Certainly there have been many years of my life when I was too busy to spend time on needlework, but I always come back to it. I love being among the generations of women in our family who create with their hands and put a “a kiss in every stitch.”

My mother and I worked together in our needlework shop for 10 years. People were amazed that we could spend all day working together and still get along so well. But it wasn’t hard. We love each other and we love needlework. It all fit together very comfortably. We had so much fun in that shop, and our clientele were all women just like us, creating from the heart for their families and friends. Even though we don’t have our shop anymore, my mother and I still love helping other women with their needlework projects. We hope you will join this virtual needlework circle to share memories, ask questions and provide any tips you may have for others.