When I was little I remember the button box. It was an old cigar box that held my grandma's precious buttons. She cut them off of clothing that was too worn and ragged to wear, and when money allowed, she would buy herself some beautiful buttons from Woolworth's to put into the lucky recipient's clothing. I don't know why it happened, but when she died, I was given the button box. I know that I didn't take the box with me when I grew up. I don't know where the box is, but I still have the buttons. With all the moves, they have traveled with me from one part of the country to another. It is only recently that I have started to use these wonderful vintage buttons in what I do. As a young bride, I followed in my grandmother's footsteps and clipped buttons off of old shirts and dresses. I also picked them up at garage sales and thrift stores. Now, these buttons don't have the class of the ones she had, but they still have their stories. I don't know the stories, but I remember the ones my grandmother would tenderly hold in her hands. "I cut this one from your baby dress. You were baptized in that dress." "I cut these buttons from your mother's dress. She really loved that dress." Those were just some of the stories and memories. I don't remember them all, but I do remember that box. I wish I had it now.