“I take the vest out of the storage box that I keep under my bed and I am transported. […] I knitted the vest during one week of our vacation in the Adirondacks. Funny how seeing it, touching it, brings back the time and place. This vest holds the Adirondack Mountains, the lake, and my young children for me,” The Knitting Way — A Guide to Spiritual Self-Discovery by Linda Skolink & Janice MacDaniels

My mother, Mary Katherine Lemmon Smith, taught me most of what I know about needlework. And if she didn’t teach me how to do it, she helped me untangle it—from bungled articles of clothing to early knitting attempts. When we were younger she sewed a lot of our clothes, including formal gowns.
She is a very creative individual in all aspects of her life. If she doesn’t know how to do something, she figures it out. In addition to practical items, she also enjoys making beautiful things like crocheted afghans, fabric album covers, and decorative flags. She worked for a while as a decorator’s seamstress and sewed many custom-made draperies, comforters and other items. One year at Christmas she made a set of custom drapes for my living room.

Mom was born May 15, 1934 in Piqua, Ohio. She was a straight-A student. She worked in a department store after high-school graduation and married my father when she was 19.

She primarily stayed home to raise the five children she eventually had, which include my sister Annie who was severely handicapped with brain damage.

Because she was basically house-bound with the care of my sister, my mom put her energies into doing those kinds of things that could be done at home, and sewing became a source of income and pride.
See The Stitches We Leave Behind under the Series tab above for more links in this 10-part series.