the Antique Spinning wheel

Spinning wheels, once used to spin wool into thread, have been relegated as nothing more than an antiquated idea for those who wish to participate in traditions escaping the modern era. A tradition left unappreciated; a piece of history abandoned to sit in the dusty corners of nostalgia. Who would have ever noticed the spinning wheel sitting in the middle of an antique store?

The little bell jingled overhead when Augustine and his mother walked in. Alerting the older woman, Marigold, current owner of Darlene’s Antique Emporium, and Augustine’s Great-Grandmother, to their presence.

“Welcome, it has been a while.” Marigold greeted warmly.

“Hi grandma!” Augustine shouted, waving his little hand.

Little Augustine tugged on his mother’s hand, swinging back and forth whining for her to just hurry up.

His mother pleaded “Please stop pulling Sweetheart, Mama is trying to read.” Focusing on the plaque situated in front of a spinning wheel. It read,

“Here stands the eight-hundred-year-old spinning wheel of the infamous Darlene family. A Family of forgotten carpenters, once known for their production of magical items. Passed down from eldest child to eldest child till magic was lost to fantasy.

(For more information, please see the current owner.)”

Lilly asked off handedly “Why won’t you sell this to the museum?”

Having had this conversation before, Marigold responded with a soft but firm voice. “No. It is an heirloom and is not to leave this family at any price.”

“Come on!” Lilly cried out throwing her hand up, turning to face her grandmother. “It is just an old spinning wheel! I could go by one off the internet right now for less than three hundred from any other antique store, but the museum insisted it wanted this one. I think over three grand is more than a fair price. It’s not as if it can really spin straw into gold!”

“What? That thing can turn straw into gold?” Augustine asked curiously.

Marigold smiled, a twinkle in her eye. She bent down and pulled out from under the counter, a tome, bound in worn black leather, with a crest carved into its surface depicting snowdrop flowers, surrounded by intricate scroll work. She flipped through its pages searching for something. Curiosity getting the better of him, Augustine stood on his tip toes to peer at the contents, a sigh of wonder escaping his lips at all the things he saw. Pulling out a piece of thread that had been tucked in the margins his great grandmother wrapped it around her finger. The thread glowed with a soft light as it was twisted and turned.

“Pure gold, so fine it was weaved into the wedding veil of Princess Abigail Miller who once thwarted the attempts of a man who wanted her first child.” She explained. offering the thread to little Augustine.

Holding his breath, he reached out to lightly caress it, terrified it would vanish.

“Was this really made on that spinning wheel?” he asked, voice hardly a whisper.

Marigold placed her elbows onto the counter, leaning a little closer to match the boys quiet words. “Oh yes. That spinning wheel has been on a great many adventures. Did you know it was once saved from the great Spinning wheel purge of thirteen-thirty?”

Augustine looked up, eyes wide, shaking his head.

“Would you like to hear about it?”

The little boy looked at his mother, bouncing on his toes, mind reeling “Can I Mama?”

His mother rolled her eyes “Whatever, a fairy tale never hurt anyone.”

Augustine’s grin stretched from ear to ear when he turned his full attention back to Marigold. Her smile as enthusiastic as his own. “Come child, sit in the parlor. Your mother and I will get some hot chocolate and cookies from the kitchen.”

“Yes, Grandma!” Augustine through the store into the employees only door that led to his great grandmother’s private upstairs residence.

While locking up the shop a little early before making their way into the kitchen, Lilly pleaded. “Grandma please, don’t go telling him these fanciful stories as if they really happened. He is young yet so it will not hurt him right now, but if he grows to think of them as real, he could get bullied when he is older.”

Marigold’s gaze softened at her granddaughter. Memories of an enthusiastic little girl with bouncing pigtails and a wild imagination came to her. Placing a frail hand onto the younger woman’s cheek she asked quietly “When did you grow to be so cynical, Dear?”

Lilly sighed. Clasping the frail hand in her own, leaning into it “I grew up, Grandma. We all have to at some point. It is an inevitable part of life.” removing the hand from her face, bringing it to her lips for a kiss before letting go. Grabbing the tray of treats she went to join her son in the parlor.

Marigold felt her heart grow heavy at the loss of a child’s imagination and disillusionment of the world.

Warmed by the fire and lit by a couple small lamps, the parlor was a cozy space to read and tell stories. Augustine sat in a large armchair curled up in a blanket, knees tucked to his chin, impatience radiating from him. Marigold chuckled. “Scoot over and you can sit on my lap.”

Once comfortably arranged she began her story. “Though this is not a fairy tale, we might as well start with Once upon a time.”

“Once upon a time in a little village there lived a little boy whose father owned a local carpentry shop. In this village also lived the local Lord who had a daughter. She was the desire of all men and the envy of all girls. Her skin was pale as starlight, her lips the color of cherry blossoms, and her hair, red like fire. Oh, how beautiful she was in her dark blue dress covered all over with embroidered roses, hair braided and curled atop her head. Her temperament though?” Marigold shook her head and clicked her tongue. “Spoiled. Her greed and envy went unchecked by her widower father.

Adam Darlene, the carpenter's son, was an exceptionally talented young man, and he was infatuated with the Lord's daughter. Spending every day trying to win her affections.

 One day while wandering the woods he came across a pond, and overlooking that pond was a single willow tree.

 “Oh, dearest willow why dost thou weep?” he asked conversationally.

When the wind rustled its leaves, the tree seemed to sigh “I weep for no one seems to have use of me. I am old and weak, but deep in my core something useful I wish to be. Surrounded by life and love instead of rotting here silently.”

Adam whooped in excitement “Oh what Fortune! Oh, what joy! For I am the son of a carpenter! I can help you full fill your wish, oh willow tree. The love of a woman I hope to win, and surely if I use you to make her gifts, her love she will freely give.”

After days of work he built a spinning wheel, and with it he would make the finest thread.”

Augustine sat up excitedly, “You mean like the one downstairs?”

“The very same one.” Marigold confirmed before continuing.

 “While looking in the pastures for the finest wool, he met a ram. With a fleece so soft and white it was as if a cloud had descended from the sky.

“Oh sheep, dear sheep, could you give me some of your wool? To spare my Lady love from the coming winter cold?”

“Bah, bah,” It bleated “Take it and free me! For it weights me down in this harsh summer heat.”

With a pair of sheers and steady hands Adam trimmed the fleece, unwilling to miss a strand. Returning to his home, he sat and spun the threads so slender it turned to gossamer in his grasp. He then created a loom to weave it into cloth.

One night he stole into the Lord’s garden and called out to the daughter’s window. “My Lady, my Lady, so fair and divine. Would you please except this gift of mine?”

Hearing Adam’s call the servant was sent. Down from the tower the servant ran, to convey the message her Lady had sent. “Oh how pleasant. Oh how sweet, what is it that you have brought to me?”

He showed her the cloth, describing its beauty “The first cutting of wool from sheep so white that snow itself would envy the sight. Woven into cloth so delicate even fairy wings cannot compare. Yet still warm enough you need not fear the winters might.”

“Oh how magnificent! Oh how grand!” the servant declared, but sadness darkened her countenance.

Adam, concerned, asked “What is wrong, my dear?”

“Oh it is nothing,” she responded with a sigh “It is just simply that the Duke himself came to ask for my Ladies hand, and to prove his worth he brought with him the skins of seven snow leopards. What need has she for wool?”

Taking the cloth the servant returned to her Lady. Adam left, determined to find something better. From the woods to the pastures he wandered. Till in the ocean he found a mermaid, caught in a net.

“Help me!” the mermaid cried in desperate fright.

Kneeling beside her Adam drew out his knife, “I will help you, but I wish to receive in return an item of equal value to your life.”

“If you help me, these things I can offer. Shells that whisper sweet lullabies, to cause your enemies to fall into a deep slumber. Or my hair, precious and rare, for the longer the strands you take, the more years on your life you can make!”

“Then your hair I shall take, and a thread of longevity I will make.”

With treasure in hand back to the spinning wheel he ran, where with unwavering heart, he spun it round and round till it started to shimmer. Returning that night to the garden window, he once again called out “My Lady, my Lady, so fair and divine. Would you except this gift of mine?”

Hearing his call the Lords daughter sent the servant to meet him. Down she ran to receive this gift and convey a message her Lady had sent. “Oh how wonderful, oh how kind. What have you brought this time?”

“The emerald hairs of a mermaid, set in silver, carved all over in snowdrop flowers.”

“It is beautiful.” she admired, before sighing “if only you had gotten here sooner. The Grand Wizard was already here and brought with him the scales of a dragon he had fought. With the healing powers of dragon scales what use has she for hair?” After this away the servant went, leaving Adam alone and upset.

In the morning he paced, what did he have that the others did not? He could not beat them in furs, or in jewels, and he did not think the spinning wheel alone would suffice. Just then an idea came to him, and he sat down to spin something he had never tried before.”

Pausing in her story, Marigold looked at Augustine who had fallen asleep. She kissed his head “He is sweet. You are raising him well.”

Lilly closed her book; she felt tears form in the corner of her eyes. “Thank you. It hasn’t been easy.”

Marigold reached out her hand. Lilly got up to move across the room. She kneeled on the floor laying her head across her grandmothers lap.

 Running her fingers softly through Lilly’s hair while the grandfather clock in the corner ticked away the hour. Marigold started her story once again. “On the third night of his endeavors he brought her a mound of gold. Under her window once more he sought her out.

“My Lady. My Love, would you except this gift of mine?”

But there was no answer. Again he tried “My Lady! My Love! Will you not answer me? A gift of gold this time I bring, in hopes you will look favorably upon me. Your hand in marriage I seek. Would you dear Lady, deem to marry me?”

All was quiet from the balcony. Instead of the servant, guards had come to see who was in the garden disturbing the peace. Away Adam ran so as not to get caught.

Adam eventually had to give up the pursuit of his love when the Crown Prince came to claim the daughter’s hand. They were wed within that fortnight, with an elaborate feast that lasted three days.

 Rumors said for wedding gifts she gave to him. A cloth made from wool so white, snow envied the sight, and yet so warm it would protect him from the frigid winter nights. A ring made with mermaids hair, so fine it shined like emeralds in the light, to bestow upon him strength and might. There was also enough gold to fill his treasure rooms and build a new castle or two.

Rumors had also spread that not two months after they wed a baby girl was born with hair so black it looked like ebony. Unfortunately, the mother did not survive. The King after two years’ time, remarried before he too mysteriously died.

Adam on the other hand lived for many prosperous years after and had many children with his wife.

Two generations later the Royal couple were having trouble conceiving, but eventually a little Princess, as delicate as a rose, had been born. In honor of the baby all magical creatures had been summoned to bless the Princess they held dear. Strangely though that very same day a decree came that destroyed the economy. All spinning wheels were to be destroyed, and so Adam’s grandson decided to flee, but at some point during his journey the spinning wheel was stolen. It was many years before it was once again returned to our family.”

Silence reigned at the end of the story. It was comfortable though, reminding Lilly of simpler days when she was a little girl listening to her grandfather’s voice as he sat at the spinning wheel downstairs making threads so delicate she had once asked him if they were spider webs.

With a heavy sigh Lilly got up, “Well it is getting late. I have work tomorrow and Auguy has school.” she genitally lifted her son from his grandmother's lap.

Marigold whispered back, “Here wrap him in this blanket so he doesn’t catch a cold.” She helped Lilly wrap him into a crochet wool blanket with a gold rose and green vine pattern.

“No need to walk us out. I know the weather affects your knees, and it did call for rain later. I will just use the key you gave me and lock up when I go.”

Marigold nodded, patting her granddaughters' arm. “I will see you again soon then.”

Lilly agreed and then made her way out. Marigold sat in her chair by the fire, smiling to herself till she drifted off to sleep.