Back while cleaning out the old homestead in 2020, there were many fun vintage finds that we uncovered. Among them were boxes that evidently accompanied my mother when she left home to get married. They held mementos and other things from her childhood, college years, and even her young adult years teaching school.
The oldest of these boxes contained many childhood treasures (even old school papers and report cards!) but one of the most precious things I found was a cardboard suitcase that seemed intended for doll clothes. It is 1930s vintage and is labeled "Dolly Peggy and Her Hope Chest."
I just did a little research online and found this from Worthpoint: "A Dolly Peggy Hope Chest. 8"x3"x6". Made by Transogram Company Inc, NY. The chest is made of cardboard with a metal handle and latch. It is covered on all sides with pictures of Dolly Peggy traveling the world, taking a bath, buying new clothes, pictures of a train, plane and ocean liner. Even has a picture of her little dog - Rags. Inside fully lined in pink and cream paper with a moire pattern ... A bit timeworn, but a really neat doll accessory!"
As you can see, the one I found was "a bit timeworn", also. I opened it up fully expecting to find doll clothes. But what I found was actually even more precious to me. Apparently I didn't take any photos of it, but that's okay. It was a sort of crumpled up piece of fabric, which turned out to be a partially completed stamped cross stitch with this saying: "A Friendly House by the Side of the Road With a Friendly Welcome for You". The skeins of embroidery floss were there with it.
It doesn't take a detective to know this was a project my mother had started as a child, but had never completed. What intrigues me more is a snippet of a memory of something my mother had shared with me. How, when she was a child, her father was very ill and spent time in Boston in the hospital. Her mother was there with him, and various extended family members took up the slack at home: supervising the maple sugar operation, looking after the children, and so on. One of those who helped care for the children was a teenage cousin, I believe. My mother recalled how this girl -- I think her name may have been Rebekah -- taught her and her sisters to sew doll clothes and to embroider. So I think it's not too much of a stretch to assume that this was the project my mother practiced those skills on.
Well, of course you know I had to finish that incomplete project. The floss was still there, although I think it didn't include yellow, so I used some from my stash.
And I did finish it-- using the colors she had started with on areas that she had begun to stitch, then choosing from among the included floss (along with yellow to brighten it up) to stitch the remaining unstitched design. And it languished for a bit until I thought of the exact right thing to do with it.
You see, I own a framed cross stitch from the same era -- stitched by my Great-Aunt Mabel and dated 1935. It's very similar in design, which makes me guess the one by my mother is from the mid-1930s as well. As you can see, the saying is "How Dear to This Heart are the Scenes of My Childhood when Fond Recollection Presents Them to View." I've had this for awhile. It always hung in my grandmother's house, near her desk and the chair where she spent many hours talking on the phone. When I acquired this heirloom -- which had always intrigued me, even before I learned to embroider -- I immediately hung it in our bedroom.
But then. Along came our camp, and after it was made livable again, I decided to take Mabel's cross-stitch to hang on the freshly painted wall of the bedroom nook. It looks wonderful there.
And so, upon giving it some thought, I realized that my mother's sampler should also be framed and hung on one of the other walls in that nook. A good idea, but easier said than done. At first, I thought maybe I would try to match the frame on Mabel's stitchery (or have my husband make one), but quickly realized that would be nearly impossible -- and also that this wasn't about perfection. Our camp is so full of quirky, whimsical old things that a little detail like frame color and style mattered not a whit.
Then the problem began to be finding an affordable frame that would fit. Walmart was no help. I found some frames that I liked, but getting a large enough one was going to be expensive. And they didn't have the colors I liked on the larger frames. This cross-stitch piece doesn't look as big as it actually is. I confidently purchased an 8x10 frame before realizing the design wasn't going to fit.
So we began to visit the thrift store on a regular basis to see if we could find a suitable frame, or even a piece of framed art. Our favorite local thrift store has quite a fast turnover, so we felt we would eventually find just what we needed.
It took a few months, but one day Mr. T found a framed art piece that he thought was the right size. He "measured" it by laying it down on the floor tiles, which he guessed to be about a foot square. He was sure it would be right -- and it was! We wasted no time purchasing it, removing the artwork, and using it to frame the needlework. It fit perfectly and looks so good with the stitchery.
This one is less blurry. Even though our camp is in the woods on a dirt road, it truly is "by the side of the road" and we do offer a friendly welcome to those who can visit us there.
After almost 90 years, this sweet sampler is just where it belongs.
