After All That Talk About Not Looking Back…

It is a very old sewing machine and not a whole one, at that. Years ago my mother removed the head and made a place for my typewriter to rest. Since that time, the typewriter has been replaced by my computer. It’s where I sit each day to write. Mom bought it for my grandmother and its original purpose was to stitch clothes for her family. Next, the sewing machine progressed down the line to my mother and then to me. Now, there are times when my son or daughter-in-law or grandchildren sit in front of the old sewing machine/desk. Not to sew anything but to use the laptop which rests on it. So five generations have sat at this machine.

The top is held up by sturdy black ironwork. The large wheel still turns and the treadle moves when small grandchildren’s feet try it out. Four side drawers and one in the middle are embellished with fancy swirls and curves. The knobs are wood covered with a thin layer of brass. How wonderful if those drawers held a secret hideway stuffed with gold or even a long-ago journal. Alas, that is not the case. The drawers hold only memories of bobbins or pins or buttons or bits of cloth, saved to go in a future quilt.

The wood is strong and beautiful. Good oak wood that has a dark honey sheen under lamplight. It has lasted for probably 90 years. Sure, there are some scars and stains but to me they only enhance its worth. You see, they mark the fact that it has been used many times by people who are dear to me.

The sewing machine has adapted to its new purpose  beautifully. It has seen life change from the days of horse and wagon to cars to airplanes and now space travel. It has progressed from creating clothing to supporting a device that creates stories. I think perhaps I could learn a lesson from this old and lovely machine about adapting gracefully to change. And now, let me think…how could I incorporate a treadle sewing machine into a new story about Darcy and Flora?