Completed Thread of Life II

[Yomila]

10th of Fall 520 AV

The word echoed in her mind, feeling heavy and meaningful. But she didn't know what it meant. She felt she should know but a quick inventory of her memory came up empty.

It was obvious in her black eyes. The wonder. The knowing without understanding.

How do you know? they said. And, deeper, What does it mean?

The mark on her hand had been a mystery since it appeared after that fateful meeting on the Kabrin road. She had stared at it often, as was her custom in this form. Judging these hands that were still as mysterious as that mark even after all these years. The Ethaefal searched her memory of that day, of that strange woman on the road who had comforted her.

The old woman before her smiled softly, knowingly. "Marassa, that is what you are. A servant of Kihala, the Goddess of Life," she paused to study the Ethaefal's face, her own eyes still full of warmth, "You are welcome here, always."

Kihala.

The Ethaefal felt many things at once: relief, curiosity, understanding, acceptance. But something sat wrong in her mind.

"I am no servant," she said, hotly. That word was acid on her tongue.

This was not the full truth, however. She had been, once - one of Leth's many followers. Had she forgotten this? Had she been earthbound for so long that she had forgotten her God? The Father of what she was?

Shame and frustration filled her.

The woman watched her curiously, allowing the Ethaefal time for this mix of emotions to play out in full. She ventured softly, "I only meant she chose you, marked you as her own. She must have seen potential in you to do so." Her countenance was still sincere, still cordial, her words even despite her age.

Reality struck Yomila with a fierce, unflinching blow.

The white-cloaked, red-headed woman on the Kabrin Road had been Kihala, Goddess of Life. She had marked the Ethaefal as She consoled her, assured her what she had done had been right, commended her on understanding the balance of life. Everything began to slide into place, the pieces of the puzzle slowly connecting. The Ethaefal's mind hurried to make sense of it all, reasoning that resisting the urge to keep Tyak alive, to rob him a natural death, had been what drew the Goddess' attention. Now she was what this woman called a Marassa. The words She had spoke, the path She had put the Ethaefal on. It was all making sense now.

A stab of guilt and shame pierced her.

What did this mean for her? Would Leth still welcome her now that Kihala had marked her? Had the Goddess of Life sealed her fate, forcing her to remain in this mortal coil?

Then, more painfully than any other thought: Had she forsaken Leth somehow?

Dread gripped her fiercely, affecting her features.

The woman made a move, reached out to her. The Ethaefal did not fight to touch, the warmth of the palm that found her arm.

"Come, let us find a place to sit," she coaxed matronly, maneuvering them towards a low wooden bench. She drew the Ethaefal's clammy hands into her lap once they were seated, cradling them reassuringly. She studied Yomila quietly, kind smile still present, and then introduced herself, "My name is Cara Marie, but everyone calls me Mama Marie. This place is mine, my gift to Syliras and its people. It's my gift to you, too; I mean it when I say you are always welcome here." Her words were mollifying; they held a similar quality to Kihala's: gentle, comforting, motherly.

She continued, "I can sense something is going on in your head. Speak freely if you are comfortable doing so. You'll get no judgement from me. I pride myself in being a confidant, and enjoy being a friend or a shoulder to lean on when anyone might need it."

Yomila hesitated. Her eyes shifted over the old woman's face, taking this all in. She remained mute, morose.

Mama Marie's lips drew tight but the warmth remained. She gave the Ethaefal's hands a soft, comforting pat and then coaxed, "How about we start with something easy. I know you are a Marassa but I do not know your name. Are you willing to give me that?" She added, gently, "You do not have to it you don't want to. I don't want you to feel forced into doing anything here."

The Ethaefal sighed gently and closed her eyes. She nodded softly, the heat gone from her. "I am Yomila," she said.

Mama Marie smiled broadly, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Yomila."

tag: solo
nanocount: 781

[Yomila]

10th of Fall 520 AV

"I have so many questions," Yomila said wearily.

A rueful laugh left her suddenly as it occurred to her exactly why she had come here. The chain of events that brought her to this very place. The Ethaefal loved making links and she couldn't help thinking Kihala's hand was in this. Why did it sit so heavily, then? Why did she feel guilty all of a sudden?

She drew her hands out from Mama Marie's and set one in her own lap, the other finding her face, feeling foolish. "I came here wanting to learn to sew," she chuckled weakly again and shook her head, "to stitch up wounds, specifically. I guess," she floundered but regathered her thoughts, "I figured if I could learn to sew cloth then I could find a way to apply it to skin."

Her hand dropped and she found Mama Marie's eyes. Her own searched the woman's face, agonizing over everything, "Is that a fool's errand?"

Then, before the Mama Marie could reply, "I felt a pull to do this." Her words were a rush, craving justification, "Kihala had told me to protect life when she marked me. She encouraged me to travel here with a group of Syliran Knights. I felt it was her wish for me to join them.." she trailed off and shut her eyes. "They are protectors. I thought it made sense," she was rambling now, letting her thoughts pour out. Finally, she breathed out, "I'm what people call an Ethaefal. I know I have a gift to help with wounds." She realized she didn't know how to properly describe what she was able to do in her Ethaefal form and hoped Mama Marie knew of her kind and the ability she spoke of, "and to age things, " she ventured. "But I want to do more."

The look in her eyes was desperate for reassurance, for answers. She wanted to know if she was on the right path and that her train of thought was valid.

"Is that what Marassa do?" she asked.

Mama Marie's smile was small, soft, and unwavering.

She gave the Ethaefal a knowing look, "It is a noble cause, what you seek."

The old woman looked thoughtful as she studied the Ethaefal. Finally, she sat up straighter, "I cannot say whether your decisions are in line with the Goddess' wish for you." She chuckled, "How are we mortals meant to know the will of the Divines?"

Her countenance remained assuring, "I know of your kind and the gift you speak of. You likely used it in a way that also drew Kihala's attention." Then, thoughtfully, "If it her acceptance you seek, then I suggest you continue doing what you were doing before you were marked. If there is more you wish to ask Her, then I suggest you seek Morian Devan at the Temple of All Gods. He can help you try to commune with the Goddess and might be able to help you better understand your mark."

"My understanding of what Marassa do is limited to what experience I have with them. I do not know the name of the mark on your hand or of its powers but I do recognize it as Kihala's and as the mark of a Marassa," she said evenly. Mama Marie's eyes shifted over the Ethaefal's face, searching for what Yomila might be feeling, the woman knowing she wasn't offering everything she felt the Ethaefal wished to know. She could only give what she knew.

"I know them mostly as Midwives. Some have helped with the children at the orphanage - the Welcome Home - while others have assisted farmers in the fields alongside those marked by Bala, the Goddess of the Harvest. They are wherever life is important, nurturing and blessing it."

Yomila chewed on this, nodding softly. "Thank you," she said, still uncomfortable with the word but feeling the need to express her gratitude. "Your words have been helpful," she said, softly.

Mama Marie pressed gently, "There is still much on your mind. Much you want to ask."

"Yes," said the Ethaefal. Her black eyes held the old woman's. She was unsure how to even begin. Unsure how to properly articulate everything she felt, everything that was still whirling in her mind.

She swallowed and realized her throat was terribly dry. Sighing, she asked, voice pitiful, "Do you think this means Leth has abandoned me?" She did not know what possessed her to ask such a thing. Yomila was usually a closed book and not one to confide in others. It wasn't natural to her. But the old woman's presence was so grounding and safe, she had let everything pour out willingly.

Mama Marie reached out to lay a hand on Yomila's own folded ones, her smile warm as a campfire on a cold night, "My dear Ethaefal, I cannot answer that. Though I can only imagine the the discord this has all brought to your thoughts. Morian Devan may be able to give you greater comfort with his wisdom of the Divines."

Then, with a squeeze, "But I can help you with sewing, and can help you on your way to helping improve the lives of others.. if that is what you also seek."

Yomila smiled and nodded quietly.

tag: solo
nanocount: 881

[Yomila]

10th of Fall 520 AV

"Well then, we'll begin with that," Mama Marie said warmly. It was only then that she finally turned her attention away from the Ethaefal and back to the room of sewing women, gaze passing over each in turn. She caught Yomila's eye and said more firmly, "You can have me to yourself for a little bit longer, but I will need to check in with the rest of those here. It's a free service and everyone is given equal treatment."

The Ethaefal nodded.

Mama Marie motioned to a table that held a neatly bundled collection of supplies and garments as she continued, "Go and get yourself some supplies. There are needles, different colored thread and different bits of fabric for you to pick from. We even have some pieces of clothing that could use some mending."

The old woman paused, looked thoughtful, and then changed her mind, "Actually, if there are any garments that need buttons then pick those up and bring them back with you."

Yomila was nearly on her feet when she heard this request and her face rearranged, prickly and hesitant.

"Buttons are a good way to learn to use a needle and thread," she explained after noting the change in the Ethaefal's expression.

Yomila's dark gaze cut across to the table and then back to Mama Marie. She gave her a nod and then went to pick out what was needed. She took her time rummaging, looking for pieces of cloth in colors she liked - or pieces that were of a similar color. Everything was different and most were garish or had imperfections with how they were dyed. The Ethaefal remembered that all the items were donated; it made sense that it was a collection of rejects and cast-offs.

Once she settled on some things she deemed tolerable, she then picked through the pile of clothes needing mending, searching for anything with buttons that might be missing others. She returned with two bits of nearly matching anemic-looking mauve cloth, a spool of dark blue string, a needle, as well a brass button and an apron-style dress missing a similar button of a different shape.

The Ethaefal sat herself down and then organized the items in her hands, neatly stacking the two pieces of cloth to the side and folding the apron on her legs, button-part up. The thread sat upon it with the button and the needle was kept securely between her left finger and thumb, careful to keep the point away. Her dark gaze was curious as it found Mama Marie's, waiting for instruction.

The older woman picked up the button and rolled it between two fingers, studying it. "A flat button," she said, brows raised in interest. Her eyes found the Ethaefals and she nodded with a smile, "It's different from the shank button the dress has, you see?" She held the button close to the other.

Yomila studying the pair of buttons and saw more differences between the two now that it was brought to her attention. They were both brass and nearly identical in size but that is where the similarites ended. The shank button on the dress had a rounded face that held a raised design. The flat button was just that: flat. It also had two holes at it's center. She frowned.

"I'll try and find a matching shank button," she said, rising. She set the needle delicately on top of one of the pieces of cloth.

Mama Marie shrugged, "If you want. We can use the flat button; this is more for you to learn with, after all." She added, "The dress was likely made with shank buttons so something decorative - like a necklace or lace - could be strung between the two."

Yomila was already set in her decision and she was not someone easily swayed once her mind had been made. She returned to the table she had picked from earlier and scoured the collection of buttons. It took a chime and plenty of digging until the Ethaefal successfully uncovered another metal shank button. It was plain in design and a darker color but Yomila was satisfied it would look better than the flat button she had originally chosen. She returned to the bench and presented the button to Mama Marie, holding it out in her upturned palm.

"Ah! That's nearly identical," The older woman exclaimed with a smile, "good find, Yomila."

The Ethaefal was pleased and took up the needle.

Mama Marie took the button from the Ethaefal and set it beside her. "Now, we ignore this for now," she said, referring to the button, " because the first order is to thread the needle."

Yomila fished the spool of thread from where it sat at her side and clumsily picked the thread free, eyes narrowing in concentration. She hadn't anticipated that this would be a difficult request. Her confidence began to shrink as she struggled to get the thread through the small eye of the needle. She tried different angles but the thread was like a magnet. It turned away each attempt the Ethaefal made.

She pushed out a frustrated huff.

Mama Marie chuckled, amused.

tag: solo
nanocount: 858

[/quote]

[Yomila]

10th of Fall 520 AV

"I'll give you a tip," said Mama Marie, her head tilted as she watched the Ethaefal struggle. "The thread is easier to handle if you wet the end of the thread."

Yomila cast a scrupulous glance in the older woman's direction but saw no hint of anything but sincerity on Mama Marie's face. Wet the end of the thread? She hadn't brought her waterskin with her and saw no refreshments around, no bowls of water or anything remotely wet looking. She frowned in thought as her mind worked this over. She cast her eyes around at the other women, looking for clues. She spotted one just as she ran the thread between her lips. The Ethaefal's frown deepened.

She supposed that was one way to wet things.

She frowned again and lowered the needle while raising the strand of thread in unison, bringing it towards her mouth. Her thin lips parted as she arched a questioning brow in the older woman's direction. Mama Marie watched her expectantly and Yomila reluctantly stuck the thread between them, closing her mouth around it. She pressed her tongue up and then drew the thread out, eyes dropping to fix on it.

It did look straighter. Sturdier.

She gave it an experimental thrust towards the eye of the needle and couldn't hide her impressed expression when it threaded through easily. She hummed, curiously satisfied, and switched her grip, pinching the thread between finger and thumb of both hands. The needle zipped along the line of the thread.

"Now we need to tie the ends," explained Mama Marie.

The Ethafael's face rearranged, confused.

Mama Marie noticed her confusion and elaborated, "Break off the length of thread and then tie to two ends together."

Yomila's lips drew into a thin line as she eyed the thread. She drew more from the spool, lengthening it just in case. She lifted the end still attached to the spool to her mouth and bit down, tearing the thread free from the spool with a small 'pop' sound. Her fingers manuevered the ends of the thread and knotted them but her frown returned when the knot continued to slip though as she pulled the ends tight. The knot snagged and tightened on the eye of the needle.

Mama Marie tilted her head and shrugged, "That works just as well. As long as you have two lines of thread to make it stronger. But you will need a knot at the end to secure the button to the fabric." Then, thoughtfully, "Did you notice there were different types of needles?"

Yomila nodded but her focus remained on the needle and thread, "Yes." She sent a cursory glance towards the older woman, "I take it there's a reason for the sizes?" She then attempted to knot the end but failed again.

"There are," Mama Marie confirmed, nodding a she reached over to show Yomila how to make a knot with bullion knot twirls, deflty wrapping the thread around the needle before sliding it through, resulting with a nice neat knot at the end of the thread. "Just as there are different thicknesses of thread," she continued, her countenance still welcoming, encouraging, "a thicker needle is best when working with heavier fabrics and heavier, thicker thread is best when working with weightier fabrics, buttons or adornments as well as making bold lines. Thinner needles are good for more intricate work and lighter, more delicate fabrics."

The Ethaefal nodded. This made sense.

She studied the dress in her lap and moved a free hand to toy with the fabric. Her frown returned. "This is thick wool. I should have gotten a thicker needle," she said.

Mama Marie shrugged again, "It's not too thick and you chose a medium sized needle. It will work fine."

"This is just practice, remember. You are not a seamstress being paid to mend this dress. It was donated this way; any repairs we make will be an improvement," she said, encouragingly.

Yomila nodded with a sigh. She slid the thread through her fingers and pinched down on the needle. She picked the button up in her opposite hand and studied it, black eyes flickering between it and the dress. "Now I thread the needle and thread through the button and fit it to the dress?" she asked.

"You anchor the thread to the dress first," the older woman corrected gently. "Push the needle through the top layer of the fabric, making sure not to go through all the way."

Yomila eyed the dress, needle hovering above like a hawk ready to strike. She frowned in frustration again and moved the button into place to get a better idea of where to insert the needle. She positioned the button as close as she could get to being in line with the other. The Ethaefal moved it slightly to grant her access to the fabric beneath and passed the needle through. She saw it didn't go quite where she wanted but Mama Marie made an encouraging noise that made her think she should continue. She drew the thread through the fabric of the dress until it snagged, the knot holding.

"Perfect," said Mama Marie, a warm smile on her lips.

Yomila disagreed.

She supposed it was acceptable.

tag: solo
nanocount: 876

[Yomila]

“Now I thread the needle through the shank.” Yomila remarked, feeling confident about the direction she was meant to take now. Despite this, her dark eyes did venture sideways towards Mama Marie. There were skittish things despite her bravado; they sought assurance, affirmation.

“Indeed. Now you thread the needle through the shank.” Mama Marie confirmed with a small smile.

The smile was warm as a summer's day. It spread through the Ethaefal and she inwardly turned her face to it, revelling in the feel. However, her actual actions were the opposite, her attention deviating and returning to the needle, thread and button in her possession. She carefully thread the former through the latter and then glanced at the garment, mind working out the next best move.

She moved the needle towards the fabric with conviction and listened as Mama Marie's voice uttered a bit of praise and direction.

“Yes, now back through the anchor you made.”

Yomila punched the needle through.

“Just like that.” Then, “Make sure not to push all the way through the fabric like last time. Keep threading it through where you made your first stitch.”

The Ethaefael did as instructed, threading the needle through the anchored stitch and then drawing it tight. Her dark eyes watched the shank button come to life against the fabric, sitting up and out just as the other did. It was strange. It was such a satisfying feeling putting the button back on the garment, piecing it all back together. It wasn't too unlike when she used her gift to age wounds.

This got her thinking.

“You mentioned Marassa are midwives,” Yomila said, trying to keep Mama Marie at her side, yearning for more answers to the many questions that still whirled in her head. It was a selfish need, but The Ethaefal was a selfish creature. She continued the motions of threading the needle through the shank then through the fabric, over and over as she continued, “What is a midwife, exactly?”

Mama Marie's small smile returned as she straightened, her eyes sweeping over those around them before returning to Yomila and the garment in her hand. “A Midwife is someone who assists pregnant women through their pregnancies and the baby's birth.” she said simply. Then she added, “Marassa are also know to give Kihala's blessing to women who have recently fallen pregnant or wish to become pregnant. Kihala's realm is life.. and children are the greatest gift of life we mortals can offer.”

The Ethaefal mulled over this, her stitching paused. She had never heard of the term midwife but she understood the practice to a degree. It was not unusual for women to help others of their pavilion when it came to pregnancies and birth. It was generally understood that those who had already had children and gone through the experience of childbirth would guide new mother's into their world and coach them on what to expect. Yomila considered if this was the same type of thing.

Her thoughts ventured further, like hounds on a trail.

“I used to help during foaling season,” she said abruptly, mid-thought. Her dark eyes moved from the button and thread to the woman beside her, “Is that similar?” Then, to further elaborate, “I lived with the Drykas before I came to Syliras. I was often called upon during foaling season to use my gift to age foals born too early.. or those who were injured. Sometimes I used it on the dams, as well.”

Her thoughts continued to roll together, ever hungry for information, “Is it possible to be a midwife to horses? To animals?” Her confidence had returned. Her questions did not have claws but they still pawed, eager.

Mama Marie considered this and then nodded, “I don't see why it wouldn't count. Animals have instinct on their side; they are often hardier than we mortals, their offspring able to be on their feet and nearly independent far sooner than our own babies ever would be. But I can see where a Marassa could still do their work there.”

This affirmation caused the Ethaefal's thoughts to crash hard into one another, seeking, needing, craving a way to put this new information to use. “If it is similar and it can be just as beneficial to animals as mortals.. do you think I could use my gift and my mark on the warhorses the knights use?” She added swiftly, “I am a squire, after all. I spend some time at the stables training, I could assist while there.” Her thoughts poured out of her like water from a pitcher. They were no longer questions but statements made more for herself than for Mama Marie.

The old woman sensed this and just smiled that same encouraging smile and patted the Ethaefal's hand.

802

[Yomila]

The old woman patted the Ethaefal's thigh, effectively bringing Yomila out of her thoughts and back to the present.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea, my dear, especially if you are already familiar with working with horses.” Her eyes held a knowing look, however. There was a task still at hand. “For now, let's finish what we've started here. I know there's still much on your mind and you are thinking of all these things you wish to do. For now, let's focus.”

The Ethaefal nodded and chewed on the corner of her mouth. She felt a little chagrined at having gotten so ahead of herself but she couldn't help getting excited. She lived for connections and here was one clear as day. Kihala had seen how she helped the foals and had urged her toward the knighthood; now Yomila could be a midwife and further Her will with the Tiaden Warhorses of the Order. It all made sense and yet there was still so much she did not know. So much she did not understand.

She would need to visit the Temple after this. She would need to speak with Morian Devan and see what else he could tell her about the Goddess of Life. About the Marassa.

About Leth.

That last thought sent her plummeting back down to the here and now. It was a violent drop. It rattled her.

Exhaling softly, Yomila blinked and glanced between the garment in her hands and the old woman at her side. A flutter ran through her, as if she knew she should say something. Should apologize. But, instead, she remained silent and turned her attention back to mending.

She stabbed the needle back through the fabric and said softly, “Yes, now is the time to focus.”

She let her mind still as she threaded the needle through the button and dress a number of more times, the motions hypnotic, meditative.

Eventually, Mama Marie's voice nudged the comfortable fog that had settled in her mind away, probing at her consciousness.

“That is looking good and secure. How about we test the button to see how well it stays.”

Yomila set the needle and thread down and the pinched the button between index and forefinger. She wiggled it tentatively at first before her movements grew bolder. She gave it a good tug and then a sideways yank. Still the shank button held. Her black eyes returned to Mama Marie, seeking further instruction; seeking assent.

“Very good. Now, it's time to make an ending knot,” she said, approvingly. The older woman leaned over and made a motion with one hand for the Ethaefal to make a loop with the thread, “Once you thread the needle through the fabric once more, make a loop and then pass the needle through it, forming a knot.”

The Ethaefal did as instructed, pushing the needle through the top layer of the fabric one last time before creating a loop. She threaded the needle through the loop and sent one last cursory glance in the older woman's direction. Seeing Mama Marie nod, Yomila drew the knot tight, watching it scurry and knot securely at the base of the shank button. She sent a curious look in Mama Marie's direction.

“Perfect,” the proprietress said with a nod. “Do that two more times to secure it, since it's a weighty fabric and a weighty button.”

Yomila made note of this and did so, going through the motions of passing the needle through the fabric, then forming a knot, then passing the needle through and drawing it tight two more times. Her mind felt free and quiet as she did so, receptive to these methodical and repetitive moves.

“Excellent. All done. Now just find a pair of scissors and snip the thread near the knot, just under the button.”

The Ethaefal paused. She had not seen scissors. Her black eyes passed over her surroundings, hunting a pair down. A furrow found her forehead as her face rearranged in question. Her eyes returned to Mama Marie and she asked boldly, “Could I use my teeth again like I did earlier?”

The older woman laughed gaily and shook her head. “Well, I suppose nothing is stopping you from doing so.. but I do advise using scissors for this bit. I'd hate for you to wreck what you've just done.”

Then, for added measure, she said knowingly, “You wouldn't want to put your teeth near a wound you were stitching, now would you?”

The Ethaefal grimaced softly and sent a chagrined sideways glance in the other woman's direction. She looked stubbornly back at the garment in her lap. The answer was clear as day: she'd need to find scissors.

787

[Yomila]

The Ethaefal stood and strode back to the table where she had previously gathered her supplies. Her black eyes cast about the table for the scissors but there was nothing there besides fabric, garments, and various other sewing implements and materials. She frowned openly.

Mama Marie cleared her throat somewhere behind the Ethaefal and said in a clear voice, “Does anyone know where the scissors have gone?”

The Ethaefal's frown deepened. It became a scowl. It wasn't in her to ask these things; she always did things by herself, even if it meant the task was more difficult and took longer. Her dark eyes swept to a woman who spoke up, her thick brows narrowed.

“Here they are,” called the woman, voice hearty and in total contrast to the look the Ethaefal gave. The woman held the scissors up carefully and turned her attention to Mama Marie. “My apologies,” she said, “I forgot to return them to the table.”

Mama Marie looked between the Ethaefal and the other woman. Although she uttered no words, the instructions were clear.

It took everything the Ethaefal had not to glower openly.

Instead, she straightened and moved purposefully towards the other woman. Her dark eyes met the woman's light ones, her smiling face. She promptly took the scissors the other woman offered and gave nothing more than a curt, severe nod before turning on a heel to return to where her work was.

Mama Marie watched her quietly, studying her, seeing her for what she was. “You aren't the sort to willingly ask for help, are you? Unless it's something you're actively seeking.” She watched the Ethaefal for another moment, head at a tilt, “You prefer...” her eyes narrowed gently as she reconsidered, “You're used to doing tasks on your own.”

The Ethaefal said nothing as she drew the dress back into her lap, positioning it so the button she had just stitched back on was centered. She slid her free hand under the garment and held up it so she could get a better view of the knot under the shank button. Angling the scissors, she deftly snipped the tail of thread off. She didn't get too close to the knot, however. She was conscious of not nicking it, fearing it would all unravel if she did.

Satisfied, she set the scissors down and gave the button another tug. Her dark eyes darted back to Mama Marie, seeking her final approval.

The older woman reached over and gave the button her own tug and then nodded approvingly. “Very good, it's nice and secure and well in line with the other.”

“Now we can move to the material you brought over. But, before we get to stitching them together, how about you go get that flat button again. You succeeded with the shank button, so why not figure out the flat button, too.”

Yomila looked at her curiously. It was strange. She had not originally come here with the intention of doing a sewing class so it still felt a bit surreal to be thrust into this. However, her intentions for coming here were still real and true and she still wanted to see them through. She supposed learning the ins and outs of sewing buttons and figuring out knots and threading were not bad things to know. This place, after all, was one of community, of giving back. Yomila felt a lot of Kihala here. It felt right to continue.

She stood and returned to the table and quickly located the flat button she had returned earlier. The Ethaefal palmed it and then returned to her seat. She shifted the dress aside and then moved a piece of the mauve fabric into her lap. Her attention, however, was on the button, her mind already trying to puzzle out how to proceed. It had two holes where the shank button had had one. She wondered if this meant she would have the thread through each the same way she had thread through the shank button. Her black eyes sought Mama Marie. They said what she didn't. This is more complicated.

Mama Marie watched the Ethaefal, taking in her curious expression. She smiled warmly, ever encouraging, and coaxed her, “How do you think we proceed?”

Yomila considered this and then answered, deducing this would be much like the shank button but the motions would be doubled for each pass, “make an anchor.” Her brow narrowed in thought as her eyes shifted between the button and fabric, working over how it would work.

“Correct,” said Mama Marie. She gave no further instruction, instead motioning for the Ethaefal to begin.

Yomila did so, winding a bit of thread around the needle like Mama Marie had earlier and then pushed the needle through, creating a knot. She pushed the needle through the fabric, making sure not to push all the way through the back, and then drew it through until the knot snagged like before. Her eyes turned to the button and then tentatively back to Mama Marie. The woman remained quiet, watching patiently, so the Ethaefal continued like she had with the shank button.

She passed the needle through one hole and then decided to thread it back through the other, figuring that was as good a way as any to secure the button to the fabric. She then pushed the needle back though the fabric near where she had made the anchor and pulled the button tight to the fabric. She felt satisfied with the end result and turned her attention back to the older woman at her side.

Mama Marie nodded and said, “Very good. But this time you can push all the way through to keep the button secure to the fabric. Pass the thread through to a count of ten. The wind it around to further secure it and complete it like you did the shank.”

She continued, “Once you are through with that, how about you check the other button of the dress and add an extra stitch to secure it. Go through the same pattern you did with the first but with the button already secure.”

Yomila nodded.

“I'm going to go about the room and check on the others here while you do so. We can focus on stitching once I'm back.”

She rose and added playfully, “Don't forget to return the scissors. Everyone always forgets to return the scissors.”

The Ethaefal attempted a smile and nodded again. She turned her attention to the button in her lap and continued to secure it, passing the thread through the fabric and then both holes over and over until she had completed a count of ten. Then she wound it around and finished off with a knot like she had with the shank. She drew it tight and tested the button, feeling it hold firm. She finished the job with a quick snip to the thread near the final knot.

Once she was done secure the other shank button to the dress she had been working on earlier, she returned the scissors to the supply table.

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