A beautiful cross stitch came into the shop many years ago, stitched on dusty rose fabric, with flowers and butterflies bordering a poem titled ‘Mother.’ My mother’s favorite color is pink. My mother loves flowers. My mother is . . . .
Mother. What a perfect gift. It took me 2 ½ months, stitching every day, but has hung in my mother’s bedroom for 20 years.
Linda’s maternal grandfather had a rural Virginia bluegrass band, The Skyline Boys. On a visit to her mom’s, Linda discovered a treasure of old photographs in a box her mom had tucked away. A framed photo of granddaddy’s band now hangs in her mom’s home in Virginia.
Melissa framed a civil war sword for her mother. It had been passed down in her family from generation to generation. Once stored precariously below the stairs at grandma’s house, now, beautifully shadowboxed, it hangs securely over her mother’s window.
A friend has framed some of her own artwork for her mother. An artist as well as a picture framer, her hand was there from paintbrush to hammering the hook on the wall. Her mother hangs her paintings proudly on her walls.
Article contributed by Jean Ann Camilli, CPF