And she gave birth to her firstborn son and wrapped him in bands of cloth, and laid him in a manger, because there was no place for them in the inn. Luke 2:7
This Christmas I made "bean" bags for my nephews. I didn't fill them with beans, but with strips of scrap fabric. Each cushion took quite a bit of fabric, so I had to go through all of my stash. I've got piles of the stuff. Some of it I've hauled around for years thinking I'd use it for something, so this was a good way to make use of a large amount at one time. And, it was a great way to give the kids a gift they can enjoy for a long time without heading to the nearest department store for a toy they'd only play with for five minutes.
As I sat and pulled out yards and yards of scraps, tearing the larger pieces into strips, the project began to take on a different meaning for me, one I hadn't anticipated. All these fabrics represented something. These were pieces of my life. Woven into each scrap was a little bit of who I am.
There were patterns I cherished and patterns that were fun. Still others brought memories of happy times, while some were easy to part with. The process was both bittersweet and cathartic. I don't quilt, but I imagine that the experience would be similar for those who do, especially those who use scraps and old clothes to bind together blankets that have both purpose and meaning.
I hope that someday my young nephews will come to appreciate that their simple gifts may not have been the hottest, newest thing or cost a great deal of money, but they were filled with laughter, sorrow, joy, heartbreak, friendship, and love. These are the gifts I truly wish them to have because it's these things that shape us into the people we are and remind us of the journey we took to get to where we are.
This Christmas I made "bean" bags for my nephews. I didn't fill them with beans, but with strips of scrap fabric. Each cushion took quite a bit of fabric, so I had to go through all of my stash. I've got piles of the stuff. Some of it I've hauled around for years thinking I'd use it for something, so this was a good way to make use of a large amount at one time. And, it was a great way to give the kids a gift they can enjoy for a long time without heading to the nearest department store for a toy they'd only play with for five minutes.
As I sat and pulled out yards and yards of scraps, tearing the larger pieces into strips, the project began to take on a different meaning for me, one I hadn't anticipated. All these fabrics represented something. These were pieces of my life. Woven into each scrap was a little bit of who I am.
There were patterns I cherished and patterns that were fun. Still others brought memories of happy times, while some were easy to part with. The process was both bittersweet and cathartic. I don't quilt, but I imagine that the experience would be similar for those who do, especially those who use scraps and old clothes to bind together blankets that have both purpose and meaning.
I hope that someday my young nephews will come to appreciate that their simple gifts may not have been the hottest, newest thing or cost a great deal of money, but they were filled with laughter, sorrow, joy, heartbreak, friendship, and love. These are the gifts I truly wish them to have because it's these things that shape us into the people we are and remind us of the journey we took to get to where we are.