The Christmas Dress

It was getting late. My grandmother, Edna, was still busy with her sewing and pressed to finish orders from her customers. Grandma Whitney was a talented seamstress, much of her fine pin tucking, pleats, and trims sewn by hand.

Mother finished her evening chores and helped her sisters put the youngest children to bed. She took one last look at the beautiful, plaid taffeta-type material that lay still folded and untouched, by Grandmother's sewing table. Mother wanted a new dress so much, to wear to the party that would be held the next afternoon on Christmas Day in the town hall. There would be dancing and lots of good food and games for everyone. But it was almost midnight. The dress had not been made. Feeling great disappointment, she finally followed the others and went to bed.

There was great excitement among all the Whitney children the next morning.  It was Christmas! While each was enjoying simple gifts and toys, Mother, remembering the folded piece of cloth she had seen on her way to bed just a few hours before, went to take one last, longing look.  She could hardly believe her eyes! There, spread over a new wooden rocker and with a new pair of shiny, black shoes, was a most beautiful dress...her dress! Grandmother Edna sewed all through the night and pinned what could not be sewn in time. Mother, dressed in her beautiful, red Christmas plaid dress, danced at the party though her new patent shoes never touched the floor!

Mother use to tell me this story as the holidays drew near each season. She loved the memory; She loved retelling and reliving it.