Saving Lace

My head screamed, “What?” as I looked at the photos text to me. Theresa had sent me a photo of the lace curtains she once tried to sell. She had taken down the plaid curtains in her living room and staged her window with the lace ones for the photo. The delicate lace looked romantic as the sunlight behind the pane illuminated a soft glow to the photo. I replied, “Looks great.” I was impressed with the time she was taking to stage the curtains for the photo but I also knew how much those curtains had meant to her.

They hung in her childhood home and when her mother passed and she sold the house, she opted to keep the curtains. She only had a small apartment at that time, but dreams of a large home with a family and even a dog were in her thoughts. Curtains could be expensive and lace ones like this hard to find. Theresa carefully folded them and stored them in plastic within a cardboard box for years.

Ten years ago, her basement flooded. She feared the curtains would be damaged when she discovered the soaked cardboard box tucked deep in her storage. The plastic bag she had carefully packed them in protected them. At that time she washed them four at a time and hung them on the apartment buildings clothes line.

The smell of her childhood had washed away long before she laundered those curtains, but as she folded each to put back in storage, she smiled thinking of so many memoires of the past. Even the year that her brother shook a mustard bottle brought her a smile. Although that day, their mother wasn’t happy. When the cap of the mustard was opened, it accidentally splashed and landed on the curtains. Wiping it only smeared it, so the curtains had to come down to be deep cleaned.

As Theresa’s mother soaked and dabbed, and scrubbed and complained about how bad the stain was; she shared that these curtains were made from her mother’s wedding dress. Theresa wasn’t home when she shared this story, but her brother Tony was.

When Theresa texted him to say she was selling them, he hollered at her. “Why do you want them?” she asked, embarrassed to tell him she had never used them in all these years.

“Those curtains were made of what was once our grandmother’s wedding dress.” He said. I always thought you took them to do something special with them.

Theresa was shocked to just be learning this news. The first few years of having the curtains she wondered if she should use the material in her sewing classes, but she made quilts and lace wasn’t exactly material to make a quilt. Thought she contemplated using it for edging but didn’t want to ruin perfectly nice curtains. Especially since she still had hope to hang them in her future family’s home.

Politely she offered the curtains to her bother.

“I have no use for those things, but I can’t believe you would just get rid of them.” He said, and then an argument erupted just like they were teens; until, Theresa said, “Tony, what would you like me to do with them, if you don’t want them and I can’t use them?”

He was quiet as he contemplated options. “I don’t care.” And he hung up the phone.

Theresa was used to his behavior, and as usual she felt guilty about doing something so innocent. Sitting on the couch, she stared at the curtains imagining her grandmother wearing that lace.

Such a delicate fabric to have been restructured into curtains with even a ruffle base. Theresa’s eyes wandered the room, stopping at the hydrangeas which were wilting in a vase.

She had picked them in her brother’s garden last weekend when she went over for dinner. Theresa had commented how beautiful his garden was. The hydrangeas, roses, daylilies and marigolds were in full bloom.

Tony’s wife suggested she take some home. Even though Theresa changed the water a few times during the week, the flowers were still wilting. She knew she should throw them away but hesitated wondering if her brother would make her feel guilty for taking flowers just to throw away.

In that moment, she realized the flowers had served their purpose. The dress, the curtains, and even her storing them has also served its time. It was time to make a change. Theresa carried the Mason jar into the kitchen, tossed the wilted green hydrangea into the trash barrel, and drained the vase.

As she picked up a dish towel to dry the water that had splashed onto the counter, she held its lace edging. Pausing before placing the towel back on the counter, she caught sight of the invitation to her nephew’s twin’s baptism. The baptism was in three weeks, at the same church her own parents were married, and where she always thought she would have been.

Instantly she was inspired to fetch her sewing machine. She picked up the curtains, began to stretch, measure, and pin them. She logged onto her computer and googled “How to make a baptismal shawl.”

The week before the baptism, she went to her brother’s house carrying two wrapped boxes. “I made something for your grandchildren from mom’s curtains, and grandmother’s wedding dress.”

Curious, her brother opened the first box and under the tissue was the lace curtains. He picked it up and his wife began to cry. Theresa had transformed the curtain into a beautiful baptismal gown.

“I wanted to make a gown, but it’s more like a shawl or a blanket.” Theresa said, adding, “The other box has a matching one but I put blue ribbon on that one.”

He hugged his sister and said, “This is the most beautiful gift ever. Thank you.”

Theresa was pleased to have saved the curtains, and over the next few months she made many more out of those curtains and donated some to the home of unwed mothers, and today, sent me a photo of one with the text “I made you a prayer shawl for you.”