Reflections

Needle-Time is a fictional piece written to bring to life the magic that surrounds the love of carrying on the tradition of the needlearts from generation to generation. Join me for a new story each issue that will reflect the strong bond formed between Aunt Lilly and Molly through their special needle-time.

Last issue Molly learned that everyone needs time alone. Join us this issue as Molly faces her deepest fear with the advice of Aunt Lilly.

“Facing Fear”

The crowd of kids sat in front of Molly like a giant, blurry blob. They stared at her, waiting for her to begin her demonstration speech. Some boys made faces at her as she glazed her eyes over them, and a few of the girls giggled at her. Why did Mrs. Bentley make them give speeches? And why was she called up first?

She leaned against the podium. Her knees shook so vigorously, she doubted they would hold her legs any longer. She could run. The door was right to her left. She looked at it. She could turn the knob and run for dear life. But then everyone would laugh at her the next day, and she was sure Mrs. Bentley would make her do it all over again. No one understood her fear. Not even her teacher cared. She simply forced her to stand in front of the class like a fool.

She tried to open her mouth to speak but couldn’t. She couldn’t get words to form. Her head swirled and she could barely catch her breath. How would she speak?

The room fell completely silent as everyone waited. The tick of the clock couldn’t keep up with her racing heart beat. How would she get through this? She couldn’t just stand there forever waiting for the perfect moment to start. What if it never did?

Aunt Lilly told her she had to face her fear or else it would always be in the way. But that was hard. She wasn’t afraid of spiders or snakes. She could walk right up to one and pick it up. So why was she so afraid to speak suddenly? She spoke all the time to these very same kids. Why was this different?

She thought of Aunt Lilly’s advice: “Find three kids that you are friends with, talk to them, and ignore everyone else. Look at one and talk to her about your stitching. Imagine that what you are teaching her is the most valuable piece of knowledge she’ll ever learn. She needs you to teach her. Then, turn to your next friend and talk to her, too. And finally talk to the third friend with the same intensity. Soon, you’ll be so involved with feeding their interest that you’ll forget about the other students. It’ll simply be you and your three friends talking about stitching.”

So, Molly looked to Betsy. She wore a warm smile on her face. Then, she turned to find Suzie and she saw her twirling a piece of her long brown hair around her pointer finger. Then, finally she spotted Margo who sat with her hands crossed atop her desk. Her three friends counted on her to teach them how to start a cross stitch project. Without her they might never learn.

She would teach them.

She turned to Betsy first and met her eyes.

She found her voice deep within and forced it out. “First you have to find the center of your fabric, like this.” With her hands shaking, Molly folded her fabric in half horizontally and then again vertically. “Now you place your spare needle where the point meets.” She barely got the needle into the hole, but it caught when her hand twitched just the right way. “And when you open it, the needle will be where the center is.”

Betsy sat up straighter in her chair, squinting her eyes for a closer look. As Molly turned to Suzie, she realized her knees had steadied, and she had finally caught her breath. “Then, you have to place the fabric in your scroll.” She demonstrated how to make it taut.

By the time she turned to Margo, she realized that she was actually enjoying this teaching stuff. Everyone looked interested. Robbie even slid his desk closer. And Ted perched himself higher by kneeling on his chair. Excitement replaced the nervousness. By the time her planned speech ended, she wanted to keep going and teach them how to end a piece of thread by running it under the previous stitches. But, Mrs. Bentley rang her silver bell before she could.

As she gathered her materials and walked to her chair, the whole class erupted into loud clapping.

Molly’s heart raced again but this time not out of fear. It beat faster from the joy of facing that silly fear and squishing it! Aunt Lilly would be so proud to know that she wasn’t afraid to speak in front of the class. She couldn’t wait to get home and tell her.