The Old Sewing Machine

We’ve carted it all over the country for thirty years; it surely has more miles traveling than it does sewing. But the time has come. The old sewing machine needed a new home. And it has one. My friend Helen came over this evening to pick it up. Although she has a newer zigzag machine, she specifically wanted this old Singer, the one that has been in the family since the late ‘50’s or early ‘60’s, because these old machines sew a more true stitch for quilting than the new ones.

I learned to sew on this machine. I was ten or eleven years old, and my first try produced a gathered green and white cotton skirt made without a pattern. I may have worn it once. The gathering was bunchy and the hem uneven. But it was the work of my own hands – and of this new sewing machine belonging to my mother. My next sewing project was the product of membership in the local 4-H club. I made a pair of red Bermuda shorts and a red and white print sleeveless top. Kathie’s project, also Bermudas and a top, was made from a wide gold/gray/white plaid, that we laughed later reminded us of a tablecloth. I don’t think she wore her outfit more than once or twice, either, possibly ceasing with the tablecloth similarity awareness.

While I was never an enthusiastic seamstress, it has been handy to have a sewing machine for repairing split seams and making small projects. The Singer and I parted company when I married and left home. A few years later, when Bob and I lived on Craigwood and Gayle was soon to join our family, Mom offered me the sewing machine. By this time zigzag machines were on the market, but this faithful machine was all I needed or wanted. The lavender gingham curtains in the nursery, and the matching stuffed elephant were not my projects, but rather crafted by Kathie on her own newer Kenmore sewing machine for me and her new niece-to-be. I made a few jumpsuits for myself, which were in vogue in the early ‘70’s, but I don’t recall making anything for Gayle. From that time until now, the Singer went with us each move we made, from Toledo to Texas, Florida, San Francisco, Maryland, and lastly, here to Utah.

Eight year old Kennedy had her first basic sewing lessons on the old machine last spring. I helped her make a gathered cotton skirt with an elastic waistband for her second grade dance program. Each child was given a piece of fabric and some simple directions for making a skirt that would be like everyone else’s, and a headband to match. I directed and Kennedy sewed. I was amazed at how steady she was able to keep the speed and how straight her seams were. I was pleased with Kennedy, and Kennedy was pleased with herself. Trying to encourage her, I promised her that if she would learn to sew, I would buy her a sewing machine.

A short time before Christmas, I asked Kennedy if she would like to sew Christmas presents for her Mom and Mrs. Gardner, her teacher. She was excited. With a little help and direction, Kennedy made each of them a butcher-style apron from cotton dishtowels and ribbon for the ties. Once again, Kennedy impressed me with her command of the sewing machine, and her ability to avoid sewing her fingers to her project.

The old sewing machine has been in the way in our small house. Each time I’ve had to drag it out from under a pile of boxes in the basement to repair a seam, I’ve made a mental note to check on the cost of a carrying case for it so that I could get rid of the bulky cabinet and just tuck it away in a closet where it would be more easily accessible. A few weeks ago, it occurred to me that it would be imprudent to spend $50 for a case for a sewing machine that was rarely used and has little if any monetary value. Maybe I should just take it to Deseret Industries. This solution seemed heartless. But the longer I entertained the thought, the more certain I was that it was time. I couldn’t make this decision alone, so I called Kathie. Without hesitation, she said, “Get rid of it.”

Allowing for one skipped generation, when I failed to teach Gayle to sew, this old Singer has served four generations over 50 years. It has never broken down, or needed an actual repair. It was last serviced in the 1970’s when I had it cleaned, oiled and the tension adjusted. Today’s sewing machines are not likely to perform so admirably. I will miss my old friend, but I’m glad that it has a new home where it will be appreciated.