I once visited my ancestors’ homestead in New Paltz, New York, and was stunned by a sampler on the wall stitched by Magdalena Elting in 1838, age 10. The Elting house was built between 1694 and 1696, became my family’s homestead in 1760, and is where my sixth great-grandparents lived during the Revolutionary War. My ancestors fought and died for independence; a couple of them sided with the British and were imprisoned. Despite the history of my family and their storied lives over the centuries, what connects me most to them is that little linen square of Magdalena’s, with family births and deaths stitched above a poem titled “Life.” I thought often of that sampler as we prepared our Spring issue of PieceWork.
Magdalena Elting's Sampler. Photo courtesy of Historic Hugenot Street, New Paltz, New York
Inspired by the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence, we’ve devoted this issue to celebrating American needlework, to honoring those stitched stories that have always shown us who we were, how we lived, what we believed, and what we dreamed might come next. This is why I cling to Magdalena’s sampler: the work of her hands tells me who I am, as does the needlework passed down from our collective ancestors. Our stitches, like our history, are varied and complex. They come from Indigenous and immigrant traditions, from urban homes and prairie homesteads, born of necessity and creativity.
Cynthia Yerby shares her heritage with Seminole patchwork.
As America celebrates 250 years, join us as we honor the heritage of American needlework. Each thread connects us to those who came before and to the promise of what’s still to be made.
Enjoy the celebration,
Karen