Helping sewing students bring their ideas to life is a mixed bag. There are times when I understand what they hope for, especially if it is a familiar project. Doll clothes, pillows, scrunchies, and tote bags are a safe bet. Then there are stuffed creatures I have never encountered. One of those emerged this week. It was a video character. My phone helped fill in the child's explanation, and although I do not have a pattern to follow, experience kicks in. My fabric library is extensive, and she was able to find the soft pink velour that matched her vision. 

 

Recently, I have given up on one of my previous standards. I used to insist that kids cut their pieces from the corner of the cloth. I still suggest it, but I no longer feel angst if they plunk a template in the middle and start chopping. Quilting is, by definition, the art of taking slices of fabric and attaching them together, so if my yardage has taken a hit from a third grader I will make do. 

 

I empathize with God's position as my teacher. We might ask for a specific plan for whom we aspire to be. Some version of a superhero, or elite success. Yet God knows the reality. Saying we want to be compassionate is one thing. Holding our tongue with a snippy neighbor is another. So God lets us start chopping away at relationships, in the hopes of stitching them back together. We might fancy ourselves as magnanimous, tossing a ten dollar bill into the basket at church, when we cannot seem to find time to write a check for that charitable donation. We are cordial to the coworkers who agree with us, but make snide remarks about those who see things differently. 

 

Still, I hold it as progress. Kids who can construct a lopsided giraffe will be on their way to sewing their own clothes. Hopefully, if I can manage to be cooperative with those people that I clash with, I am on the path to actually caring about them.