By Sharon Flax-Brutus More than fifty years ago, in a yard shaded by trees and memory, my grandmother and my great aunt Eunice made hats.Not from anything store-bought or predictable—but from what they had. Fibres drawn from the trees, dried in the sun, shaped patiently by hand. It was craftsmanship, yes, but also imagination at work long before anyone thought to call it that.One Easter stands out. Aunt Eunice, enjoying her sweets, began saving the candy wrappers—bright, crinkle...
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