Growing up, I was a girl scout. I loved it. Every other week, I hung out with my girlfriends after school, enjoyed some sort of peanut butter snack and worked on crafts. A group of the coolest moms helped us make lanyards, took us on our first camping trips and taught us the exquisite art of selling cookies. As a reward for our efforts, we were given patches. And when we were Brownies, oh boy did we earn patches! I feel like we were given patches every month. And since this was before the patches had the iron-on adhesive, we lovingly sewed those triangles onto our brown sashes. Well, we didn’t. Our moms and grandmothers were provided this wonderful task.
I would pass my sash and new patches off to one of my grandmas – whoever was assigned the task that time – and wait in anticipation. When I finally received the sash from my grandma, which sometimes seemed like an eternity, I remember looking at each stitch and how it looped around the patch.
Over. Under. Over. Under.
It didn’t move. It was sewn on with such care and love. And it was not coming off. It was now a part of me.
That was years ago. So many years. But the familiar gesture started to come back into our lives. This is the first Halloween Madeline had an opinion, and a strong one at that, about her costume selection.