After my mother died my siblings and I helped our Dad sort through Mom’s personal belongings and each of us took things home that had special meaning for us. I asked my family if I could have Mom’s button box. Mom had a button box for as long as I can remember. She kept buttons in the same tin container my whole life.
She put buttons in it that she cut off old clothes before turning them into rags. If she bought buttons for a sewing project and didn’t use them all….. into the box they went. If she ever needed a button she was almost certain to find what she needed in her button box.
As a child, I remember playing with the buttons. I sometimes sorted them by size and shape and colour. Sometimes I turned them into characters in stories I acted out. Often I used them for art projects. Sometimes I would try to pick out my five favourite buttons.
Mom’s collection of unique and interesting buttons reminds me of how our world is a collection of unique and interesting people. They remind me things can be used more than once and shouldn’t just be thrown away. They remind me that ordinary things can be the inspiration for creativity. They remind me of my Mom.