My thoughts

Let cross stitch remain for generations

This is the story of librarian Eleanor Thompson, who spent her entire life working as a librarian in the tiny town of Eldridge, far from the bustle of civilization. After sixty-five years of work, she finally retired and was able to pursue her passion: cross-stitching.

Now, every evening at sunset, Eleanor would settle into a velvet chair by the window, carefully placing the wooden frame on her lap, as if it were a precious manuscript. She quietly embroidered to the sound of soft music, and time passed unnoticed...

The pattern she chose that fall was simply delightful: a blooming rose garden, embroidered with crimson, emerald, and gold threads. She loved it! With precise movements, Eleanor moved the needle across the fabric, creating tiny crosses that gradually formed a pattern. This work became a kind of meditation for her, aided by her patience and perseverance, honed over a lifetime of cataloging thick volumes.

One evening, when the work was almost complete, a light knock on the door interrupted her solitude. It was her granddaughter, Lydia, visiting from the big city. Young Lydia, a researcher in digital archives, looked at the embroidery with interest.

"Listen, Grandma, it's just like your library—every cross stitch in its place, creating a whole!"

Come to think of it, Lydia was right, don't you think?

I just hope that cross stitch doesn't disappear like the paper books Eleanor worked with, giving way to the digital ones Lydia works with.

That's my greatest hope.