Crowning Mary - DIY Paper-Embroidery Madonna
It was a dewy morning a few weeks back, and I’d resolved to put my son on the bus for a change. I sat on the pavement, undignified in the sweat of my workout, vaguely wishing that I had more coffee, vaguely resentful in my uncertainty of when the bus would come. The bus stop is at that corner next to our friends’ house, and my son was exploring their overgrown vinca bed. The plants were choking the roses, and I figured the boy was giving them some much needed pruning as he pulled off some stems and twisted them into a circlet. “A crown for you, Mommy.” Pretty soon, we both had leafy finery. As the bus came and I propelled him towards its open door, he yelled back “don’t throw away your crown, Mommy!” I assured him that I’d put it on the nature shelf. Too bad vinca doesn’t dry well.
It seems to me that young children, in their inventiveness, are deeply drawn to crowns and headgear in general. If an object is the right size and weight, it will go on the head. This is probably one of those instinctual acts of physical training that teaches a child the boundaries of his or her body. But aside from the feel of it, there’s the potential for transformation—-the right object on the head increases your height and makes you somebody else—a queen, a ghost, a flower fairy, or a sultan. This transformation is something you can test on other people. Put the thing on the head and how does mommy react? Does she make a fuss about safety because your eyes are covered? Does she protest because she just washed the colander, and doesn’t want your “head-grease” on it? Does she maybe play along, and even consent to being crowned herself?
I’ve been thinking about the significance of giving someone or something a crown as we close out the month of May. Our friend spearheaded a “Walk to Mary” event at our local parish early in the month, and the event left a sweetness that lingered—a sense of Mary, the Mystic rose, with her interior pondering and her blossoming Magnificat. One of the events of the Walk to Mary was a May Crowning of two statues of Mary.
This friend invited my daughter and me to make flower crowns for the statues. I’d made crowns for my older girls’ first communions—so I had supplies and was happy for the honor. I felt a simple joy and absorption in making the crowns for the statues—like my son’s joy in making vinca crowns. What if the best thing about growing older is that we have more know-how and resources to put into crown-making? What if all our best work are as flower circlets to place upon Our Mother’s brow?
The Walk to Mary celebration had many parts, and they were all beautiful—but the crowning of the statue of Mary and the following procession were particularly engaging for the youngsters. The children’s personalities came to the fore—solemn, stubborn, showy, and exuberant. Each child chose a particular flower, lined up and (sometimes grudgingly) gave his or her bloom to Mary. My son placed his snapped-off rose into Mary’s outstretched palm, a grin spreading across his face when he saw that the flower would balance on the lovely white fingers. My daughter scampered towards the statue in her best balletic moves, only to halt the line as she crouched, captivated by the small plastic Mary figures at the foot of Our Lady. So many Marys!
After the event, I wanted to continue reveling in the floral beauty of the Marian month. Inspired by Simone’s post on Mary gardens, I set up a Mary garden planter and started Zinnia seeds. Inspired by the embroidery of a fellow artisan at the IBT conference, I came up with this craft—a sort of May crowning in needlework. An image of the Madonna gets a three-dimensional crown of woven roses and french knots. Dried flowers, speed-pressed in the microwave, add an organic, nostalgic element.
Last Sunday, after mass, as my son was exploring in the bushes around the Mary statue, and he found the wire and tape frame from our Walk to Mary crown, with a collection of withered buds still attached to the frame. Despite my protests, he grabbed some greenery stems and a gardenia blossom. Mary soon had a new crown.
Embroidered Paper Flower Crowned Madonna
Print artwork on heavy paper—cardstock or watercolor paper if your printer will allow it. Reinforcing the paper with packing or masking tape on the back may be a good idea if you don’t have very thick paper. Draw in pencil where you want your flower crown to go.
Mark where the holes need to go. I sewed the crown one large rose at a time, adding knots and leaves in between the larger roses. Then perforate the image where you plan to stitch your first rose using an awl or pin. Stitch slowly as to not tear the paper.
The stitched five-pointed star is the framework for an embroidered woven rose. Weaving under and over the five spokes creates the layers of petals.
Here are some tutorials that can be of help for this project:
Here’s one for woven or wagon wheel roses
Here’s a tutorial for pressing flowers in the microwave
This project would make a lovely Mother’s day gift, or something to keep hands occupied during prayer. How lovely to stitch while saying the rosary and give the completed image to the person you were praying for. The general idea of this craft could be applied to all kinds of devotional images. Let us know if you do this craft, or if it inspires you in any way.
May the work of your hands be as crowns for Our Lady!
This blog post was written in June, 2024. Many thanks to Dennis Geiser for his photos from the Walk to Mary.
