Treadle Sewing Machine

While I’m at the Yellow Bus Transport Terminal at General Santos City waiting for a bus bound for Davao like forever, counting each bus to come and go to different routes but not to my destination and although there’s actually a bus which I could get on but with the class named “executive” sure I’ll spend double the fare than I usually do. So I was just there, sitting and waiting, munched all the Hanny I took from my mom’s canteen, checking on Facebook as a free-data-user (you know how it feels), and drank half of the bottled water I just bought. There’s no TV and no magazines nor newspapers to read just the chairs and the wide view of their parking bay in fronting the passenger waiting area.

Half an hour had passed then another bus just arrived (still not my ride), an old woman came down and called on a terminal laborer to help her unload her stuff in the bus compartment. As I’m watching them unloading I kinda giggle to see how plenty of stuff the old woman had with her while it seems to be she’s travelling alone. One by one all the baggage had unloaded and while playing guessing game by myself trying to find out what are things inside those bags I was stuck with one item, I can’t explain at first ‘coz it’s a bit far from where I sit but eventually I figured it out and it was an ancient relic, a “treadle sewing machine,” I took a picture of it (zoomed in 1,000,000x if you may ask) but after a moment I felt nostalgic when I’m trying to recall what was our treadle-sewing-machine look like way back then.

My mom loves sewing from loose garter of underwear to bedding; I still remember when I used to play around while she’s sewing and when that wheel thing starts to roll then I’ll try to hold back that some kind of a rope which connects to that little machine right above it with my toy while I’m lying on the cold-red-dyed-floor, while the curtains are blown by the wind, while it’s afternoon and it’s quiet outside, while the Sun light is bright enough as it enters the room providing additional visibility to my mom’s sewing, and while I enjoy my mom’s company by myself.

We don't keep that treadle sewing machine anymore, so, thank you for that old woman for bringing such ancient relic which I almost forgot as time goes by.