The Book of Tiny Gifts
The Book of Tiny Gifts
I always wondered why my Great Aunt Sarah had never married. Despite our age difference we were quite close, and so one day I asked her if she had ever had any boyfriends. She smiled sadly and then told me that when she was 16 years old she had worked as a clerk in a knitwear factory. The office she worked in was on a mezzanine overlooking the factory floor and, one morning, arriving at her desk and sitting down to work, she was surprised to see a knitting machine needle balanced on the keys of her typewriter. Associating the needle with the factory below she glanced down to see Thomas, the factory technician, looking up at her. He gave her a wink and a quick salute and then walked away. Sarah told me that her heart had leapt as she had always secretly admired Thomas, although they had never had cause to speak to one another.
After that something appeared each day -a machine needle or a small gift -a fossil, a snail’s shell, a hat pin, a heart shape fashioned from wire, some rose buds. Every day, through that week and into the next, the gift was left on her typewriter keys, and every day she looked down to the factory floor and Thomas continued to wink and salute.
On 25th September 1916 Aunt Sarah fell ill with rheumatic fever, and was unable to work for almost a month. When she returned to work Thomas was no longer there. He had been called up to fight.
Aunt Sarah never saw him again.
Many years later, after Great Aunt Sarah’s death I helped to clear out her house. Hidden inside a book, I came upon this poignant reminder of her story. Sarah must have carved out the centre of this book herself to create this secret space for her keepsakes.
I always wondered why my Great Aunt Sarah had never married. Despite our age difference we were quite close, and so one day I asked her if she had ever had any boyfriends. She smiled sadly and then told me that when she was 16 years old she had worked as a clerk in a knitwear factory. The office she worked in was on a mezzanine overlooking the factory floor and, one morning, arriving at her desk and sitting down to work, she was surprised to see a knitting machine needle balanced on the keys of her typewriter. Associating the needle with the factory below she glanced down to see Thomas, the factory technician, looking up at her. He gave her a wink and a quick salute and then walked away. Sarah told me that her heart had leapt as she had always secretly admired Thomas, although they had never had cause to speak to one another.
After that something appeared each day -a machine needle or a small gift -a fossil, a snail’s shell, a hat pin, a heart shape fashioned from wire, some rose buds. Every day, through that week and into the next, the gift was left on her typewriter keys, and every day she looked down to the factory floor and Thomas continued to wink and salute.
On 25th September 1916 Aunt Sarah fell ill with rheumatic fever, and was unable to work for almost a month. When she returned to work Thomas was no longer there. He had been called up to fight.
Aunt Sarah never saw him again.
Many years later, after Great Aunt Sarah’s death I helped to clear out her house. Hidden inside a book, I came upon this poignant reminder of her story. Sarah must have carved out the centre of this book herself to create this secret space for her keepsakes.