My sewing machine, it mocks me. It sits there in the corner, expressive in its silence. It knows that I have no time for it just now, but it taunts me anyways. Out of the dust and darkness, it calls to me. “Think of all the new projects we could start together,” it whispers. “Think of all the presents we could make.” I turn away, trying my best to ignore it. “Come play with me,” it pleads. “Wouldn’t you rather sew than do the things that must be done?” It knows me all too well. I would rather sew than do all the things that, as a responsible adult, I need to do in the next few weeks. But they must be done, and they leave no time for sewing.
And so, for now, I pack it away.
The day will come soon enough when I can spend time at my sewing machine again. For now, my hand sewing must sustain me through this busy time. One day soon, I will sit down at my sewing machine once more. How I look forward to that day.