“I made this.”
Jacob took it carefully.
“You sewed it?”
“Mostly. Ms. Bennett helped me with the machine.”
He examined the crooked pocket.
“Your mother used to make things like this.”
Lily looked up.
“Really?”
“She always wanted everything to be perfect. But when she was learning, her first projects were terrible.”
Lily smiled faintly.
“You never told me that.”
“I didn’t think you would remember.”
“I was little, Dad. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to know.”
Jacob lowered his eyes.
Lily placed her fingers on the sewing machine.
“I wanted to learn something she knew how to do.”
For several seconds, Jacob said nothing.
I watched his face change as he looked from his daughter to the machine.
I realized that, to him, it was not merely an old object.
It was a piece of a life he had lost.
Perhaps he had donated it because seeing it at home hurt too much. Perhaps he had never imagined that Lily might one day want to learn how to use it.
