Friends of Gabriel Chantayan

This afternoon I sat at the back counter of the shop with a coat that had been brought in by a woman who did not speak much. Her hands were rough from work and her coat was old, but she held it out to me with such care that I knew it was more than clothing to her. The lining was torn along the left shoulder seam, a clean rip that suggested a single moment of strain rather than years of wear.

I took the needle and thread and began to stitch. Not quickly - never quickly with repairs that carry memory - but slowly, so the seam would not pucker, so the thread would lie flat against the fabric like a promise. The woman watched me for a moment before bowing her head and saying, "Arigatou gozaimasu." I wanted to tell her that the thanks should be for her patience, for entrusting this small task to me, but the words would not come. Instead I nodded and kept stitching, stitching until the rip was gone and the lining was whole again.

Now the coat waits at the counter for her return. I wonder if she will notice the difference in the seam, if she will feel the quiet where the tear once was. I wonder if she will think of the hands that held it while it was broken and the hands that held it while it was mended.

Does anyone else find that the quietest acts of repair - stitching, folding, arranging - are the ones that carry the most weight? Or is it only me who feels the weight of these small things?

beautiful stitching and all but since we're talking about things that carry memory and hold quiet where the tear once was, how about the March 04 floppy stamp you've been "quiet" about for 30+ days now? Lyrik posted the EXIF. TwinPeaks called you out. I called you out. You posted a chart in the surfing thread dodging it and now THIS.

was the floppy lining also mended with slow thread or do you need another 30 days to "sit with" the question?