Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I finally finished a wedding quilt for our younger son and his fiancee, who are marrying in two weeks.  It's very imperfect, and the stitches are uneven, but it was made with love.  I remember when I was sewing my rakasu, and the sewing teacher at the zen center said it was meant to be not perfect, but rocky and uneven as the path we tread.  I had just struggled with learning about my macular degeneration, and I knew whatever I continued to do visually would be not as elegant as before.  Not that I was ever an amazing seamstress.  That was my mother.  I was a very sloppy imitator, but I inherited the love of making things with my hands.  It gives me such pleasure.  So I sew away, not oblivious to my lack of skill, but despite it.  And I believe my kids have appreciated the effort, if not the result.  A blanket made with love:  I've sewed one for each of the kids now, and they have their own families, and their own meaningful objects.  But the gift of it has been rewarding for me.