I have a sewing machine. . .but I don't sew.
This was a $7 thrift store find, and it just kept calling my name. . . true story!
I mean, can you not see the beauty in this?
How many weathered hands have stitched warm quilts, baby clothes,
aprons, linen tablecloths, and petticoats?
I can almost hear the low humming of it now, in the days of yester-year. . .
And think about the lives that have been blessed by the hands that worked this machine.
Of course, it didn't look like this at first. . .but I like to envision one's
potential, searching for it's inner beauty...
And this is what I saw. . .
Most things I finish to sell. . .but some things I just can't bear to part with.
This lovely little friend has found it's place in my heart. . .
and in my home :)
"And in the end it's not the years
in your life that count.
It's the life in your years."