| On my desk, in a small frame is a snapshot of two sisters,
wearing brave smiles and home made party dresses.
The dresses began with a trip to the dry goods store of a small, country town.
There, after many hours of weighty consultation, mother and daughters settled on
patterns and fabric. Purchases made, home they went to begin sewing.
For several weeks, they cut and basted, fitted and fretted as to how a
particular seam should lie. There were six children to be cared for, and
sometimes Mom stayed up late to finish a particularly difficult stitch. Yes,
there were a couple of spots where things could have been done better, but the
dresses were lovely creations.
The day of the party arrived. What a wonderful day it was, all full of
haircurlers and lipstick. One girl borrowed her mother's shoes, the other a
pretty necklace. At last, they both stood in front of the fireplace for the
picture. Oh, how beautiful they felt, as their mother beamed, and father said,
"Smile."
This little story may not seem unusual to you, just a typical family tale, but
it is very special. You see, I was one of those sisters, blessed with a loving
mother who sewed dreams, while her family slept.
I was also a foster child. That dear woman, with five children of her own, made
room in her home and heart for a girl who needed refuge.
Claire Curtin died three years ago. Every Mother's Day, her legacy is in a photo
of two dresses, where I can still see the love in every stitch.
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