The Story of a Gown

Lately, I feel like a broken record.   Each time I sit down to write I go on and on about how time is getting the best of me.  I am going to try to not go there today...okay, you know I'm thinking it though...right?

I have been busy with a very important project.   My daughter ask me months ago to make Wyatt's christening gown.  I was excited to accept.  I found a gown for inspiration, a smocking plate, the fabric and a suitable pattern before the I was gripped with panic.   How long had it been since I smocked or sewn those little french seams on a baby's gown?
At least twenty years.

I shared with the owner of the fabric store I had taught children's sewing for a short time.  She told me not to worry, it was like riding a bicycle.   I left with my little bag in hand feeling like I could begin hyperventilating at any moment.

Once home I found all my notes from the classes I taught,  unpacked my package and began.  The smocking went well, unless you take into account I needed eleven pleating rows and I only had nine.  I crossed my fingers, looked up and told myself I could make it work.

There was prep work to finish before I had to worry about
actually putting the puzzle together.

There was cording to make.

Pleats to set.

The scariest part was going to be putting scissors to the fabric...
cutting out the pieces needed to construct the gown.

This is the point of no return.
A pattern piece drawn incorrectly, the slightest misplacement or a wrong snip would be disaster.
As I pinned the pattern to the fabric I began thinking about the importance I was placing on this gown.   Of course, I wanted to make something my daughter would love.  I had visions of this gown being passed down...becoming a heirloom...names of future generations embroidered in the hem.  I lost sight of the reason the gown was being made; and, it had nothing to do with my creating a perfectly made garment.

I love the liturgy of baptism.   It is when family and friends stand up and vow to be present in the spiritual life of the child.   It is a time when we are reminded of our own vows, and that we do not have to tackle those obligations alone.   With each challenge the congregation answers,  "I will with God's help".

The gown was important to me, and I was honored to make it.
It was going to be only the outer vestment for Wyatt's christening though.
   Once I remembered it wasn't about the gown or me,
the scissors snipped smoothly across the fabric.
(Okay, I did give up a little cheer when I saw the pleats perfectly
placed in the yoke.)



There were mistakes...things I was compelled to redo though no one
would know but me.  I often slipped back into the all about me mode,
but each time I solved a problem I once again realized I was only the hands.

The gown was finished in plenty of time.
The Christening took place this past Sunday.

And yes, I was reminded once again
I can with God's help.