This story is dedicated to my mother and all those who are artist of the needle. We so enjoy your wonderful talent and applaud you.
Hettie Ruby grew up in the lean years of this country, right after the Great Depression.
When she was little, her mother dressed her in long brown dresses, brown stockings, and a bonnet. She hated her look so much that as soon as she lost sight of home, she’d roll down the stockings and get rid of the bonnet.

(made by my Mother)
She was a child laborer at the age of six. She pulled cotton all day long. She had six other brothers and sisters and they would pick along side of her. Poor Hettie Ruby.




