Choosing To Change (eBook)

CHAPTER Two

Changing Unlikely Influences

A Zipper

As far back as I can remember I watched my mother sewing things together. Soon I discovered I liked sewing clothes, too. It became therapeutic for me, as I experienced peace and learned patience. Both my father’s mother and my mother’s mother sewed clothes for us from time to time, and the clothes they produced always fascinated me! For years, I thought my mother’s mom had magical powers because the clothes she made for us even had the same scent as readymade clothes. (It was years before I realized a new bolt of fabric from the textile mills had the same smell as readymade clothes because new fabric and the new clothes made from it usually don’t require washing prior to sale). As far as I was concerned, Granny’s new creations rocked because they even smelled new!

I loved sewing things together to produce something beautiful! Excited, I stayed up late with my mom, intently watching her cut, snip, sew and press different shapes and types of fabric until they became one cohesive unit, forming something beautifully unique! (I now realize God was igniting within me a desire to sew and bring pleasure to others and myself).

We didn’t talk much during those late-night escapades; we both quietly focused on the details of what I call “the creative process”. Mama was the designer and executor of the process and I was the apprentice. I watched every move she made, and helped wherever she needed me, as every serious apprentice does.

Later, I believed I could launch out a bit further in my sewing projects by making clothes for my dolls. I challenged myself to try new procedures and do some things differently, especially when some of my finished projects failed to function as I had planned. (Such was the case when I forgot to cut an opening in the top of my doll’s dress, so her head could get through).

Level 2 was “Home Economics” classes. They excited me because I learned the how-to’s of clothing construction. I welcomed each new sewing project with increased anticipation! I seemed to have found my niche, and making pretty things to wear was it!

Soon, I decided to try more home sewing, making more projects like those made at school. At home, I welcomed my oldest sister’s help as she showed me how to lay out my pattern pieces on the fabric, interpret the symbols and properly cut them. Later, she even taught me how to insert lining into a garment. (At that time, I could not quite grasp the concept.)

I clearly remember when our Home Economics project was sewing an apron (essential home gear for every aspiring “Baby-Boomer Homemaker”). I was pleased when it turned out better than I thought it would. The following year, a skirt was our project, and the designer/entrepreneur spirit began to stir my heart. I liked sewing clothes because we all needed them. The following year I began making skirts for myself at home, because in a family with three other sisters who swapped clothes, I figured sewing more skirts could help stretch our wardrobe. At the very least, I could add interest to mine.

A few months into making skirts, I got a bright idea: I decided to cut out my skirt and hem it, but I concluded I could wear it sooner if I left off the waistband and used a safety pin to fasten it. To cover the unfinished waist, I planned to wear longer blouses or tops, and “Voila” I could “rock” my new skirt the next day! (Who would know I had taken a few shortcuts)? Besides, as long as the raw edges didn’t show, it really wasn’t anyone else’s business—or was it?

Shortly afterward, the brilliance on my “bright idea” started to fade. Daddy, who had grown up watching his own mom sew, noticed my shortcuts. He didn’t say anything at first, but in his wise and tempered way, he soon announced “a sewing challenge” saying, “I will pay the first person who sews a skirt and completely finishes it, with a zipper to close up the side and a waistband; AND it must have a fastener at the waist.”

Well, at the word “pay” my Dad got my attention and pushed my motivation-button. The money would be my very own! As the fourth-born child among five children, I was known as the “knee baby”, so I couldn’t even remember the last time I had more than two quarters. My brother and sisters usually had no regular money either because there wasn’t much money left over for the five of us to have “pocket money”. We were not like some kids who received a regular “monetary allowance”, so they could learn how to spend money wisely.

I had lofty dreams about the prize money. The very thought of having my own money made me feel empowered and influential! Of course, I had no plan for how I would spend the money, but just the thought of having it made me feel special. My self-esteem skyrocketed, as I was confident I could rise to Daddy’s challenge. I don’t recall if my sisters even cared much about it, least of all my brother.

A short time later, I easily won and proudly accepted my prize money (a whopping two dollars, as I recall). While it didn’t make me rich, earning it elevated my sense of competence and confidence! I had a fresh perspective of my potential, as I proved I could meet a deadline, and produce a garment with an acceptable standard of quality.

Strange, how a “zipper challenge” changed my way of thinking and my self-esteem. It taught me the value of finishing what I start, keeping my word and meeting acceptable standards and deadlines. It created “a sense of balance” for me, jumpstarting my skill building journey, and eventually laying the foundation for my first small business, “Golden ThreadZ”. Starting with custom handmade window treatments, it has evolved into a consulting service, providing solutions to enhance and organize home spaces. The business conceived in my spirit during the early years, as I discovered my love for bringing people and their things into order, ease and harmony.

Learning to operate in a broader spectrum of my gift and business even challenged me to change my communication style and discipline my impulsive speech while talking with clients. When excitement tempted me to over-talk people or their issues, or fatigue made me think about “quitting”, my “zipper mindset” realigned my attitude. It still ignites me to finish what I’ve started because quitting is not a productive option. Grateful for God’s Spirit working through my Dad, motivating me to change, I am indebted to them both for influencing me at such an impressionable time in my life.

Wisdom Word: Don’t be so quick to overlook or ignore a small beginning. God is the One who made the mighty oak tree start from a tiny seed. Your seed is within you. Water it every day by reading God’s word. Remember to pray for understanding before you read, and start practicing it now. Anyone who sincerely chooses can decide to go the distance, “from seed-sown to seed-grown”.

All in the Family

I believe the traditional family unit is the crucible where God ordained us to grow, learn to adapt and mature. In the environment of family, each of us learns (first-hand) the dynamic of people in-relationship, as we discover how to fit into others’ lives. There we begin to discover our value. We also experience how to manage emotions and communicate our expectations and disappointments; it’s where we learn to speak up for ourselves and grow in our personal relationship with God.

“The family unit” also is the principle target of our adversary, the devil. He aims to strike it relentlessly—to confuse, pervert and destroy it! Our family assignment is God’s practicum for living in concert with His kingdom standards. The more we learn to live as God planned, the better He trains us to live in unity with the God head. Now, I want to set the stage for you to appreciate my unique family, as I share lessons I learned about choice and change.

We were different in every way: In gender, occupation, conversation, and personality; in body types, shoe sizes, hair types, and blood types; in eye colors, gifts, talents, and skills; food preferences, allergies, backgrounds, education, ad infinitum!

Daddy was born into a small family learning to adjust to urban change. They lived in a Southern state and Daddy grew up the only male child in his family, because his older brother died at ten years old. He never knew his first and oldest sister because she died at birth. This is why he ended up in the position of eldest brother to his younger sister. Once or twice, he admitted to me he always wished his older brother had lived, because he felt uncomfortable trying to fill that role. His family rented a run-down (but neatly kept) house directly across the street from a penitentiary.

Daddy confessed he hated fighting, but if a bully backed him into a corner, he said he learned to reach down for half-a-brick (or whatever was handy), to quickly equalize the situation.

At an early age, he learned to sing well. Both he and his sister learned to play piano. As a gifted portrait and cartoon artist, he preferred to work in charcoals, pastels, oil, and pencils to produce striking portraits and cartoon images. He learned academic subjects easily, graduating early from High School to enroll in a Virginia college on a full scholarship, until the World War II Draft interrupted his education. After the war, he began a thirty-year career with the United States Postal Service, and I never remember a time when Daddy was unemployed. He also worked part time jobs into the wee hours of the...