Michelle Edwards - Room for the Baby

Text copyright 2012 by Michelle Edwards
Jacket art and interior illustrations copyright 2012 by Jana Christy

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Edwards, Michelle.
Room for the baby / by Michelle Edwards; illustrated by Jana Christy.
p. cm.
Summary: A little boy frets that the sewing room where his baby brother or sister will sleep will never be emptied of things his mother has collected from neighbors for years, but she uses those things to sew and knit everything from diapers to Hanukkah gifts.
ISBN 978-0-375-87090-3 (trade) ISBN 978-0-375-97090-0 (lib. bdg.) ISBN 978-0-375-98105-0 (ebook)
[1. HandicraftFiction. 2. SewingFiction. 3. Recycling (Waste, etc.)Fiction.
4. NeighborsFiction. 5. JewsUnited StatesFiction.] I. Christy, Jana, ill. II. Title.
PZ7.E262Roo 2012 [E]dc23 2011034890

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v3.1

To baby Lili; her mother, Miriam; and her grandparents Vicki and David
M.E.

To my mom, Betty Arengi, who taught me to sew and laugh and all kinds of other wonderful things. I love you, Ma.
J.C.

O nce on 18th Avenue, when someone had something they didnt need anymore, they gave it to my mom. Worn-out sheets. Yarn left over from knitting a sweater. A bolt of flannel from a tailor shop that went out of business. Everyone knew Mom would put it all to good use.

With what she took, Mom made our curtains, our blanketsand even made herself a winter coat. What she didnt use right away, she saved for later. Mom filled our sewing rooms corners, its nooks, and its crannies. Then something happened that changed everything.

One fine spring morning, as we buttered our Passover matzos, Mom announced, We are going to have a baby!

Dad drew us together in a family hug.

Where will the baby sleep? I asked.

The sewing room will be for the baby, said Mom. Ive always said I would use the things I saved. Now I will. Youll see.

But I was worried. Could Mom really use up all that stuff before the baby was born?

That afternoon, Dad carried the sewing machine to the dining room table. Mom and I gathered two big piles of worn-out sheets that our neighbor Mr. Liu had brought over a few months before.

All week, Mom tore and snipped and sewed. By Friday, as our Shabbat hallah came out of the oven, shed made dozens of soft diapers for the baby.

My daughter is expecting, too, said Mrs. Finkelstein from next door. Shell need diapers like yours.

I helped Mom bundle another batch of old sheets.

Now one corner was empty.

There still isnt enough room, I told her.

Patience, said Mom. Youll see.

Whats next? Dad asked.

Mom pointed to a tower of suitcases.

The rest of that spring, she unpacked all the pajamas that our downstairs neighbors kids had worn when they were small. She took out the elastic, the snaps, and the seams. All summer, she cut and she pinned and she stitched.

That autumn on Rosh Hashanah, we had apples dipped in honey for a sweet New Year. And Mom had stacks of tiny sleepers and onesies and little shirts ready for the baby.

Cute, said Moms friend Mrs. Martinez. She had a two-year-old. So did Mrs. Liu. As did Mrs. Lius sister, also named Mrs. Liu. Mom asked me to bring them the stash of basketball jerseys from the teams my uncle coached.

My daughter needs some sleepers, too, said Mrs. Finkelstein. She was over again.

After the holiday, Mom sent me to dig out the lost-and-found box that the owner of the corner candy store had given us. Later when I twirled around and around and around in the sewing room, I didnt bump into anything.

See? said Mom.

Progress is definitely being made, said Dad.

A few weeks later, just before Simhat Torah, Mom showed me how to make a flag from chopsticks and half a sweater sleeve. While she unraveled a steamer trunkful of holey sweaters and mismatched mittens, I made a flag with pom-poms and yarn streamers and tucked it away in my sock drawer.