Her home was like a Garden of Eden… of fabric. My great-grandmother Clara was truly a craftswoman extraordinaire. From sewing and crocheting to making intricate Spanish lace, her skill and imagination knew no bounds. I’ll never forget her craft room: floor-to-ceiling cascades of effervescent colors, pulsating prints, and inviting textures that would instantly widen your pupils and tickle your soul with delight. Beside her trusted pedal sewing machine there were always bags of scraps from previous projects, scraps that others might have discarded but which were, for her, the foundation of future projects.
We often sifted through the bags together with all the unbridled exhilaration of a magic treasure hunt. She handled each scrap with a smile and the most delicate touch, gently smoothing it out, then gazing into the potential of each piece. Waves of seafoam silk were layered beside lush burgundy velvet; frayed yellow paisley found itself soulfully stitched alongside lavender taffeta and sack cloth. Cotton, linen, rayon, lace—no piece was ever cast out. Instead, they all came to life in vibrant living room cushions and curtains, and the most exquisite quilts. In Clara’s home, every piece of cloth received a warm welcome and had a place in her tapestry.
Jesus reminds us that God chose the one who was rejected to build the kingdom of heaven. Christ is forever teaching us to see that those we cast out and consider the least of these have a place in God’s tapestry.
How have we knowingly—or unknowingly—passed judgment on others, or made them feel unwelcome because they are different?
God, help us remember that the kingdom of heaven belongs to everyone, in particular the least of these. May we welcome them with open arms. Amen.