Collecting Concepts

 FIRST PLACE: ADULT DIVISION
GARTH’S AUCTIONS
“Biography of an Object” Writing Contest

ALGEETEN, the true story of a gold thimble

                                                      By Lynda W.B. of El Cajon, California

Once I was new, and now I am old.  But most people would say I hold my age well and to some, I am
even more beautiful than in my youth (A certain patina comes with age.)  Much of my early life was spent in the magnificent State of Colorado.  My roots go back to Cripple Creek, where, in 1896, in a former life, I sat as a nugget in a rushing streambed where I was found under a rock by Willie, a prospector from the east who sold me to Mr. Levi, a local jeweler.  Mr. Levi, one of many artisans in this resort and mining town high in the mountains, purchased gold daily,  which he fashioned into imaginative baubles for Milady.

I am a 14K gold thimble and my unlikely name, Algeeten [A.L.G.-10,] must have been after my first
owner, Ada Leone Garwood. I was a wedding gift from her new husband, Harry in 1898.  I still
remember the spring in his step when he entered Mr. Levi’s shop that December day. I had a good view of the door from a prominent spot in the shiny, bow-front display case.  He said he was to be married the next day in nearby Victor and when he spotted me he
happily paid the asking price of $8.50, asking Mr. Levi to engrave his fiancé’s initials on me – A.L.G.  Harry picked me up that afternoon and the next day I attended my first wedding.  During the ceremony, I was in Harry’s shirt pocket and couldn’t see what was happening, but after the festivities with family were over and the three of us were alone in our honeymoon  lodge, my hiding place was revealed and I was presented to Ada with a kiss.

The next two years were very busy for the newlyweds.  Harry had been elected
County Clerk in Otero County, a farming community in the valley, so Ada had

many opportunities to attend social events. She used her sewing machine for the basic
construction of her clothing, but was very skillful with a needle and I certainly
played my part in protecting her size-10 thimble-finger as she added lace,
embroidery and hemstitching to the lovely garments.

    Here I am with my very good friend, Stork Scissors.
                          Ada                          Harry2

We lived in a brand new home in La Junta.  I helped make curtains as well as sheets, pillow cases,
embroidered doilies and handsome linen hand towels for our modern indoor bathroom and kitchen. All were decorated with satin-stitched scallops and embroidered daisies.  Ada honored me by copying my monogram – A.L.G. onto most of them.  And there were colorful quilts for the bed.  I’m sure we would have won first place had we entered them in the county fair.  One of my favorite pastimes was making fancy silk or satin undergarments: chemises, petticoats, corset covers, nightcaps and gowns, all using the finest materials and fit for a queen. My Ada deserved the best!

December of 1899 brought a new project.  We excitedly used our skill to stitch a layette for a new little person who would be coming to live with us next August.  Miss Ada went to Denver to buy the finest batiste and softest flannel.  From these we fashioned gowns, bonnets and soft  blankets with which to swaddle our baby at bedtime.  We used our tiniest stitches and added delicate pink and blue roses created with bullion stitches.  We filled the garments with love… and it showed.  Our baby would be well dressed!   We were practical as well and put in a supply of
nappies.

In August of 1900, Baby Wilflie arrived.  Ada and Harry were elated, but their joy was short-lived. He would not eat. Five days later, little Wilflie became the first resident in the family plot at Hillcrest Cemetery in nearby Rocky Ford where we had planned to live when Harry gave up his post with the county.  Nothing could begin to describe the gloom that surrounded our home.  Ada took refuge in food and spent many hours in her darkened bedroom.  I spent equal time in the dark, now tightly-closed, sewing box. It was late in 1905 before Ada was able to face life again.  It was then we learned that she and Harry would again be parents.  Of course the event was anticipated with trepidation.  Instead of relying on herself and her mother for pre-natal care, it was decided that Ada would reside at St Mary’s hospital in Pueblo preceding the birth and stay until the new baby’s future was secure.  Out of the sewing box I came and we made even more items for Baby Natalie, born in April, 1906.

Natalie was a delightful child and I loved the smiles she put on my family’s faces.  Ada and I kept Natalie dressed in the best.  We also made matching dresses for her dollies and I loved watching her set a small table for tea parties using table linens I had no small part in creating.  Those were wonderful years. When Natalie was twelve, our lives changed.  Harry had gone into business in Rocky Ford and we settled into a somewhat hum-drum life.  Ada had tired of the severe Colorado winters and hot summers and she craved activity.  Additionally, her  health was deteriorating and she hoped the climate of Southern California might help.  So Ada, Natalie and I found ourselves in San Diego. Harry came between business trips, but Rocky Ford was home and he could not embrace California. There was just not enough for him to do.  He loved hard work and was lost without it.  I saw the marriage fall apart and was helpless to do anything about it.

I became very important again between the years of 1919 and 1925.  Ada coveted the excitement of the burgeoning movie industry.  By this time, Natalie had become an excellent dancer and Ada thought she had some talent as an actress as well. Neither ever became famous, but Natalie did land some jobs which re-channeled our sewing efforts.  We made dozens of dance costumes.  As I protected her finger, Ada decorated these costumes heavily with colorful beads and sequins.  Embroidery was now passé – shiny, sparkly trim showed better on the stage.

Soon, although Natalie was young, she gave up her career for marriage and motherhood.  Little Billy came along in December of 1923 and Ada and I again enjoyed the patter of little feet.  We made rompers trimmed in bias tape for play and little suits with tailored shirts for more formal occasions.  Much of the stitching on these garments was done on Ada’s Singer Sewing Machine, but hems, bindings and buttons required handwork and this is where I showed my stuff.  I had a great part to play in Billy’s growth and development, too.  As Grandma Ada held and rocked him, I would perch on her finger.  Little Billy’s mouth found me and I became his favorite “teething ring.”
The years passed. Natalie’s early marriage floundered, and she returned to her old home in Colorado while Ada and I traveled up and down the coast of California.  I did not get to see much for the next few years but spent most of my time cooped up in the sewing box.  I could hardly
breathe.

Things got worse before they got better.  In 1936, my dear Miss Ada joined Baby Wilfley and her
husband Harry in the family plot in Rocky Ford and I took up residence with Natalie, who by this time was living with new husband, Lynn, son Billy (now 13) and a four-year-old daughter, Lynda.  Natalie, too, loved to sew and tried to use me for the finishing touches of her projects, but alas, Natalie was quite petite – not even half the size of my dear Miss Ada – and try as I would to hang on, I kept falling from her finger.  So, I was delegated to the top drawer of Natalie’s sewing machine and only got a peek at the outside world if the drawer was opened to retrieve a button or snap, or my good friend Stork Scissors.
 
Sadly, Natalie, too, was laid to rest in the family plot in 1940.  It was too soon, as she was only 33 years old and left two young children. The next 20 years were grim. I lived in a dark safety-deposit box.  In 1960 when I was given to my third owner, Natalie’s daughter, Lynda, I was so happy to think I might be useful again, but it was not to be.  Although Lynda sewed, sadly, her thimble-finger was small like Natalie’s.  We could not work together.

Now, at 114-years of age, I am retired and survey daily life from a memory box near a sunny window in Lynda’s home.  Since she has no daughters to pass me on to, what will become of me?  Could I choose?  I would go to the family plot to be with my best friend forever, Ada Leone Garwood.
                                                                       ******
© July 23, 2012