I have a few drafts in my dashboard, but oftentimes I want them to be perfect. Which takes a lot of time and then I give up writing and editing. Which explains my MIA from here for more than a year. 🙁
When doing prayers, sometimes some little snippets from my childhood come to me and I feel emotions from then. This is when I feel it’s probably time for me to offload it here.
At the moment I have a dress which zipper is rather loose, causing it to be difficult to zip up. I’d fixed it once by sewing but the threads came off again.
I suddenly got to the memory where I once (maybe 10 years ago?) felt and thought that each household should have a sewing machine. And that memory of a small white sewing machine flashed into my head, and then a small pink one that I once owned for a few hours or days.
My dad was the only person working in the past, which made growing up not so fun for us as we were always told to study hard so that we can earn more money in future.
As a kid, we couldn’t understand this and was upset when we saw our friends or other kids owning various toys.
Well, one toy that somehow caught my attention was this miniature sewing machine.
I can’t remember the brand now, and the exact name of it, but I recalled that it had lights, and it functions like a real sewing machine.
As a kid, I saw my mum sew and use her sewing machine and I wanted to sew as well. It so happened that this sewing machine was advertised to be fun for little girls so I really wanted one badly.
I can’t remember how much it was then. Was it like $20? It was a huge sum of money for us then (and for my poor parents who had to send us to school and also survive) but I somehow managed to make noise about it and convinced them to get one for me.
Guess what though? We didn’t know how to use it, and my mum tried by reading the instructions and still couldn’t get it to function.
I remembered being so confused – disappointed, angry, upset about the whole situation. I got what I wanted, but it was faulty, and wasted my parents money. That was the worst feeling ever for a little kid.
I was so upset then about myself and my stupid decision in wanting a fake sewing machine that I took whatever decision my mum made about it – to return it back to the store.
That was the end of me owning my sewing machine.
I somehow recalled looking at it for a the next few days before my mum returned it and still hoping that someday I will own a real one instead.
But now that I am here and able to afford a real one, I don’t see a need for it anymore, and prefer sewing with a needle instead.
Think I might continue with this series of little stories. 😊




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