It began when a little girl raided through her mother’s old clothing on a rainy, summer afternoon. Boxes and bins began to empty as she set aside only the best and most hopeful of the pieces. She had seen her mother stitch, glue, and alter costumes and hem lines on dresses and pants enough times to have the confidence to take a stab at it on her own. She knew Mommy wouldn’t want her, at nine-and-a-half years old, to be threading needles on her own and using piping hot glue guns. But she would be careful, for she had seen the proper ways to handle such tools. She had seen what happens when you fumble or fidget with them improperly. She had seen, therefore she was ready.