My mom sews


In our city, the sewing contest “Golden Needle” was announced. Terms of the contest were published in the newspaper, announced on the local television channel. In the morning my mother said: “I will also participate in this contest.”

My mother works at a sewing factory. She sews clothes for adults and children. Mom loves her work, and at the factory she is praised. Recently, she was appointed as the foreman of the sewing machines.

Mum sews and houses. I love to watch how she does it. It does not have a lot of customers. The people she dressed say she has golden hands.

Mom takes measurements, carefully records them in a notebook; helps the customer to choose a style. Then she starts to cut. For this, she has special figured rulers – curves. In the course are all sorts of crayons, pieces of soap, because you need to outline the contours to cut out the fabric of the right part for a costume or a dress. Special sheepskin scissors she deftly cuts the fabric. Then the mother sweeps the details, and when the customer comes, tries on, adjusts to the figure, eliminates only the prominent malfunctions. After passing the client, my mother sits down at the sewing machine, and the room is filled with the usual chirring. It is interesting to observe how from the disjointed pieces of cloth, the mother creates a beautiful thing. She sews it for me and for Dad. And what clothes on her! And all this is done by her hands.

My father and I were not even surprised when my mother, coming from the competition, solemnly announced that the jury had recognized her as the winner. “Well, where is the Golden Needle prize?” I asked. Imagine my disappointment when I saw on a dark cherry velvet in a glazed frame a long needle – it was not gold at all! “It’s just a symbol of skill,” laughed Mom. “But my mother’s hands are really golden,” said Dad and kissed them.


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My mom sews