A Seeking Heart by Kim Vogel Sawyer

Author:Kim Vogel Sawyer
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781598569094
Publisher: Hendrickson Publishers
Published: 2012-01-05T00:00:00+00:00

Every spare minute of the following two weeks, Samantha holed up in her under-the-eaves bedroom, stitching feverishly. Gran had started her on sewing when Samantha was just a little girl, and then she continued making her own clothing while she was growing up, though never with brand-new fabric. When a neighbor took pity on her and gave her some cast off, she had remade it into a dress for herself.

Now she created a pattern by tearing apart one of Liz’s threadbare dresses and modifying some pieces to fit her slimmer frame. Finally she attached the final button and donned her favorite—the morning-sunshine yellow covered with delicate pink roses and trailing deep, green vines.

She turned this way and that in front of the little mirror on her dresser, trying to get a glimpse of the whole thing. She blew out an exasperated breath. The mirror was just too small. She reached out to shift its position, angling it sharply downward, then looked again.

Someone knocked at the door, and Josie stuck her face around the opening without waiting for an invitation. Her eyes widened as she stepped fully into the room. “Oh, Frances, you did such a good job. It’s beautiful—you are beautiful.”

Samantha, embarrassed yet pleased at Josie’s praise, fingered the tiny stand-up collar she’d embellished with a bit of white lace purchased with her very own money. “Does it look all right? I can’t see the whole thing at once.”

“Yes, it fits just right.” Josie handled Samantha like a large doll, turning her in circles. “Even the buttonholes are perfect, and the gathers on the skirt are nice and even,” she exclaimed. “And look at the lovely puff at the shoulder of the sleeves. You look like an angel, Frances.”

Samantha wasn’t accustomed to such compliments, but pleasure flooded through her. She toyed with the skirt, her head bent.

Josie tugged at her wrist. “Come downstairs. Tante Hulda is here with Mother and Liz, putting her stamp of approval on the twins. You remember, Uncle Hiram’s wife. Come show off your creation.”

Samantha drew back. “I don’t want to show off, Josie.”

Josie laughed at her. “I don’t mean you will really be showing off, silly. Mother will adore this dress, and even Tante Hulda will be impressed.”

So Samantha allowed herself to be led down to the kitchen, where she blushed self-consciously under Mrs. Klaassen’s along with the girls’ and Aunt Hulda’s exclamations of admiration. “That’s a lovely dress, Frances,” Aunt Hulda said in her thick, husky voice. “The colors make you look healthy.” Aside, to Mrs. Klaassen, she whispered too loudly, “That girl is too thin.” Then she waved a pudgy hand at Samantha. “Come closer, child. Let me check the stitching.”

Reluctantly Samantha obeyed the somewhat intimidating woman, allowing her to scrutinize Samantha’s handiwork. Hulda muttered, “Mm-hm,” and “Ah,” under her breath as she tugged at the skirt and sleeves and turned Samantha this way and that. At last she settled back in the rocking chair, crossing heavy arms across her ample bosom. She peered up at Samantha from over round lenses sitting precariously on the end of her nose.

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