I can remember my Granny teaching me to work her treadle singer. I fell in love instantly with the rhythm and whir and the old world simple mechanics. I wanted a beautiful antique singer one day. When she passed away hers was lost to me and I never imagined one this lovely. But when years later I visited an old friend of hers who had lived right behind her as I grew up. She had this treasure in her basement and gave it to me and my mother. I feel my grandmothers smile when I sit before it.
A few of the handles are broken but it takes nothing from the piece or sentiment.
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