Stories From Our Community
In our continuing effort to build community, we are asking for your stories that tie you and the past together through our craft (or not.) Please send photos and a brief description to our email: info@thebluepurl.com. Thank you for sharing : )
MaryAnn’s Story
My aunt Helga gave me these years ago. They belonged to her father-in-law, my stepfather’s father, Ole. He died in 1929 and his two sons are also deceased, but my cousin Susan and I recently pieced the story together from what little we know.
Ole was illegitimate and had no future in Norway in the late 1880s. We think his mother made them for him when he left Norway for the US.
My rudimentary google skills told me that “erindring” means remember in Norwegian.
Maryann
Cyndee's Lace-Edged Hankie
When I was about 7 years old, my grandmother taught me to crochet.
For one project, she gave me a plain cotton hankie and a spool of crochet thread for me to create a pretty lacy edge. I always remembered this project and the time spent working by her side, but I no longer had the handkerchief.
After my 94 year old mother died this fall, I was cleaning out her apartment and was thrilled to find my lace edged hankie! I was even more touched that my mother, herself an exceptional crafter and crocheter, had kept this small piece of cloth for me to find years later.
- Cyndee
The Mrs. Malofsky Blanket
My husband has a knitted lap blanket from his childhood that he remembers laying on the foot of his bed. It was named, “The Mrs. Malofsky Blanket,” because she was the one who knitted it so many years ago. It was passed down a few generations back and no one quite remembers who she was other than a relative of a relative on his grandmother’s side.
When my husband showed it to me, it was full of holes of unknown origin. Although it must have been lovely in its day, I thought its charm had worn off long ago. But my husband was sentimental about his blanket so I brought it to The Blue Purl to see if there was any hope of repair.
I gave it to Keri and made it clear that I thought it was a lost cause and I would understand if it was beyond help. But she worked her magic on it and transformed it into a beautiful accent piece that proudly drapes a chair in our family room. Thank you, Keri for the amazing transformation.
-Susan
Maureen’s Story
This knitting box was my grandmother's. It must be at least 90 years old!
She was born in 1880. Came to America. Had 9 children and lived with my family after her husband died. I grew up with her until she died in 1963. I remember her knitting mittens for the 17 grandchildren.
I learned to knit when I was 12; owned a yarn shop and was a sales rep for yarn companies. I am still knitting and will never stop! I only wish someone had saved a pair of those priceless mittens.
Happy Knitting!
- Maureen
96 Years and going… Carolyn’s Heirloom Christening Gown
Our heirloom christening gown was hand made by my grandmother and dress maker, Chiswalda (Valdina or Dina) Mancuso Cianciabella in Caltagirone, Sicily, Italy in the year of my father’s birth, 1926. The gown is made of Italian handkerchief linen with inlaid lace and satin ribbons with buttons down the back. The slip is islet cotton. The hat is no longer part of the ensemble, so each baby has added their own, as well as booties.
To this date, all of my father’s descendants names are recorded with birth year in a family tree arrangement. Not sure of the origin to add names to our gown, however, a note from my mother, Dolores, in October, 2003, along with an article from Newsday was the impetus for my action. In the article, the family represented their family tree by using a different color for each branch of the family as they recorded 48 members between 2 continents. I loved the story, but had little incentive at that time to take action until the birth of the first great grandchild, Austin Rose in 2015. At first, I was just going to add names along the slip’s hem with white thread so the names would not show through the gown. Then, co-worker, friend, artist and designer, Hanadi Fox (England), recommended using the palest gray instead. Not sure how the family tree layout formulated, but it worked beautifully. Since that time, four additional great grandchildren have arrived: Aubrey Belle, Owen Paul, Jameson Joseph and in 2022, Harper Jean.
Our gown is now 96 years old and Harper Jean is a member of the 4th generation, the 15th baby, and the 9th girl recorded in our gown’s history.
Welcome to the family, Harper Jean.
-Carolyn
Wini’s Woolworth Cotton Spread
My mother knit me this bedspread out of
Woolworth white cotton on small
needles in strips. It took her 10 years to complete .I have used it forever and I can
Wash it with bleach in my machines.
-Wini
Meg’s Story
I have several family heirlooms: the butter churn and butter mold my mother used as a child, quilts her mother sewed to keep her family warm, various pieces of silver from my paternal grandmother that are so tarnished it is unlikely they will ever shine again. And while I do love the history of these things—they are things, they don’t hold any true space in my heart. I am not about to churn my own butter, or quilt (I can barely sew on a button), and obviously, I don’t care about silver.
What touches my heart, is a box.
When I was born, my paternal grandfather made my sister a box. It’s seven inches deep, made to slide under her bed, with a lock and key. A place where she could keep her special things safe from her little sister…me. At some point, my grandfather made a box for me. He must have been wise to assume that I, too, needed to keep my special things safe.
I have no idea what my sister kept in her box, but I kept stories in mine—my stories. I wanted to be a writer. When I was six, I decided the world needed more Little Bear stories. You know the ones, by Else Holmelund Minarik and illustrated by Maurice Sendak. I proudly showed them to my father, who proceeded to explain the word ‘plagiarism’ to me. Good thing I had a box with a lock in which to keep my stories. It was a long, long time before I showed any of my writing to my father again.
My box has a prominent place in my office. I don’t keep my stories in there anymore. Now, they are stored in the Cloud, and in some filing cabinets, and best of all on bookshelves. My Little Bear stories are long lost, as is the key. But that’s okay, I don’t hide my stories anymore.
Pink Bonnet
My mother crocheted this little sweater/bonnet in the early 1980's. I don't remember the exact year. It was probably after the birth of our first son in 1979.
When I became pregnant again, she did this outfit in pink since I already had outfits in blue. I never got to use it as our family eventually included three sons. However, I could never give it away since it was a treasure from my dearly beloved mother.
When my granddaughter was born in 2016, I passed the sweater set onto my daughter-in-law. Included is a picture of our granddaughter wearing the outfit her great-grandmother made - Easter Weekend 2017. By my calculations, the outfit is already 34 years old and is being saved for future generations.
- Barbara