The Red Sewing Box

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In fifth grade, I needed my first sewing kit for home economics. My grandmother, a dressmaker, chose a bright red sewing box, filled it with everything I needed, and made a pincushion by hand.

Her care made me feel seen not only as a child, but as an individual. She even placed a name sticker on every item, just as the school required..

My grandmother and I also made small pouches together. One is decorated with a rabbit appliqué that I stitched onto a pouch she had made. On the red felt pouch, I appliquéd what I believed were my initials, “T.K.”

When I began learning English in junior high school, I was surprised to discover that my initials were actually “C.K.”

I treasured the pouches so much that I never used them.

When I immigrated to the United States more than thirty years ago after marrying my American husband, I brought the sewing box with me.

I still use it today.

As a child, my grandmother tried to teach me how to sew, but I often became frustrated because she corrected every little detail. I lost interest and never imagined that I would one day treasure those lessons.

After moving to the US—and after my grandmother had passed away—I began making quilts and simple clothes for my family. As I sewed, I found myself remembering her hands, her creativity, and her careful instructions. I often wished that I had been more willing to learn from her while I still had the chance.

I thought I had brought only a sewing box and a few small pouches from Japan. Looking back, I realize that I also brought my grandmother’s love, her craftsmanship, and the confidence she quietly stitched into my life.

Photo caption if needed.

Chiyoko • Age 57 • Petaluma resident

Chiyoko immigrated to the U.S. from Japan in 1995 and has lived in Sonoma County for 20 years. Family, tradition, and community have always been important to her.