Sewing Project

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When I was at school, each item we sewed had to be perfect.

I hated sewing, learned little, and struggled to complete my work.

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Then at home, my Mum taught me to sew.  She insisted on perfection, and made me tear out all my stitches if they were not perfect.

Finally, one day I stopped her.  I told her that there was nothing wrong with those stitches.  The work did not have to be perfect.

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We were sewing a quilt.  It was large, made of many patches, and we would never finish it at this rate.

I persuaded her, and unwillingly, she agreed.

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We sewed the quilt, and no-one noticed the imperfections.

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Perfection,..

making something that is perfect, or enjoying ourselves, having fun?

Should sewing be about chatting, laughter, making a present with smiles and a full heart,

or hard work and tears, because it is not perfect?

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I have sewed many things, and none of them were perfect, but I wanted to use colour, enjoy myself, listen to the radio.

And, the thing is, no-one ever noticed the mistakes.

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