- The property, condition, or quality of being simple. 2. Absence of luxury or showiness; plainness. 3. Absence of affection or pretense.
I wonder if my mom used a Simplicity© pattern to make these summer short sets for my sister Lisa and I.
That’s me on the left…get a load of those shorts! And the fancy fringe around the hem of the top? It’s so crooked! And the center border down the front of Lisa’s top? That’s not straight either…Bless my mama’s heart, she tried. She really tried…but somewhere along the line, she must have messed up and not followed the pattern.
Simplicity makes me think of my mom…and not just because of the pink summer outfits.
You wouldn’t know it by her initial sewing skills but my mom was an amazing woman with many gifts. She was a great prolific writer and an incredible cook. She was an artist, she could paint, knit and eventually became quite a seamstress. She had an eye for design.
She was gifted and she shared her gifts with an absence of luxury or showiness, without pretense. She shared her gifts to enrich the lives of those around her, to care for and love on her people. She was simplicity.
Her writing, her beautiful writing was letters. Letters filled with stories well told, articles and recipes shared. Words were written, not to be published but written to stay connected to the people she cared about who were miles away.
My mom wasn’t a renowned chef but she had lots of people to feed and fed them well. When we’d sit down to dinner my dad would say, “I wonder what the rich people are eating today.” It was his highest praise. He was certain the most luxurious dinner tables had no better meal before them.
My mom was an artist. She took a watercolor class and painted for pleasure. When her four-year-old granddaughter took an interest in painting she pulled out the sable brushes she’d spent a fortune on and taught her granddaughter to paint.
My mom had an eye for design. When I would come home from college for Christmas break, there’d be red tapers glowing in the holiday candlestick holders on the kitchen table. Lamps were decorated with the green and red ribbon, the Christmas tree in front of the living room window was bright and festive, touches of holiday everywhere, perfectly placed. There’s not a house in the pages of Home Beautiful that was as beautiful and welcoming as the home she decorated.
She was simplicity. She poured her gifts into the ordinary moments of life…no pretense, not for show. Not tied to a desire to be a writer, or a chef, an artist or a designer, shared only to enrich the lives of those around her, to care for and love on her people.
I can neither cook nor write a letter as well as my mom did. I can’t paint and don’t have the patience to teach a four-year-old how to paint either. At Christmas time I tie bows around my lamps but my house isn’t nearly as pretty. I am not my mom. She had her gifts. We all have our gifts. I have mine. But I am inspired by her.
Inspired to share what I’ve got, to share my gifts in the everyday moments of life…to use what I’ve got to make the world a little better, to enrich the lives of those around me, to care for and love on my people. She inspires me.
She is MY Simplicity pattern.
Sometimes I get messed up; sometimes I concern myself too much with show or pretense. Sometimes I concern myself too much with outcomes and worry about what others might think. Like my mama, I try, but I forget to follow the pattern and the execution of my simplicity ends up as crooked as the fancy fringe hem on that pink summer top…
But I need only remember my mom…just share gifts, follow the pattern. MY Simplicity pattern.
As corny, cliched, pie in the sky as it may sound, simplicity is the goal of the Amy Curtis Group. To share our gifts and knowledge of all things real estate to take care of the people we’re privileged to work with. Give us a holler.