Yesterday, I spent the day teaching nearly sixty middle school students the basics of embroidery.
Little hands learning how to thread needles.
Quiet concentration.
Soft conversations.
And that beautiful moment when a stitch finally “clicks.”
But one comment stayed with me long after the last hoop was put away.
One of the girls looked up and said, very thoughtfully, "I wish I could take a class like this with my mom and my grandma. "And I haven’t stopped thinking about that since. Because embroidery has never really belonged to just one generation.
For centuries, stitching has been something passed hand to hand — from grandmother to mother, from mother to child. Not always as a formal lesson. Often just at a kitchen table. A quiet afternoon. A shared piece of fabric between two people who care about each other.
Yesterday reminded me that young students don’t just want to learn a craft.
They want connection.
They want calm.
They want time that feels slower and more meaningful.
The Quiet Power of Making Together
When I teach embroidery, I’m not only teaching stitches. I’m teaching stillness. There is something deeply grounding about slow stitching: The rhythm of the needle, the texture of thread, the gentle focus it requires,
In a world that moves so quickly, embroidery invites us to pause.
And imagine what that experience could feel like if shared across generations.
A grandmother stitching beside her granddaughter. A mother learning alongside her child. Three generations creating something with their hands — and leaving with more than just a finished piece.
They leave with a memory.
A Thought Beginning to Percolate
That one student’s comment sparked an idea that has been quietly percolating in my mind.
What if there were small, private, generational workshops? Not large classrooms. Not rushed schedules. But a calm day in my home studio, designed intentionally for families.
A space where:
Mothers, daughters, and grandmothers could stitch together
Beginners feel completely welcome
No prior experience is needed
The pace is slow and encouraging
I would create a custom embroidery pattern for the group, guide them through the basics, and provide all the materials — hoops, thread, fabric, and gentle instruction. And, of course, it would feel like a true gathering, not just a class. Warm, welcoming, and thoughtfully paced.
More Than a Craft — An Heirloom Experience
Hand embroidery is one of those rare skills that bridges generations naturally. It doesn’t require screens. It doesn’t require perfection. It only asks for time and presence.
When families make together, something special happens: Conversations soften. Stories emerge. Memories are stitched right into the fabric.
These are the kinds of experiences that linger long after the day is over.
Still Just a Seed of an Idea At the moment, this idea is simply that — a seed. A gentle possibility inspired by a young student who reminded me that creativity is often most meaningful when shared.
If this ever becomes a formal offering, it would likely be:
Small and private
Age-appropriate (generally middle school and older)
Held in my home studio
Centered around mindfulness, slow stitching, and connection
For now, I’m simply holding the idea close and letting it grow naturally. Because sometimes the best workshop ideas don’t begin with a business plan. They begin with a quiet moment, a thoughtful student, and a single sentence that stays with you long after the day ends.
And this one certainly has.
