This page contains quotes from The Enchanted Cross-Stitch
“Any unique qualities it possesses are first from the materials; the linen, the thread, and the needle. Second, are the stitches, each coming in contact with those three materials. The stitches interlace with the linen and each stitch touches the other, creating an endless, seamless pattern. The pattern on the chart is remarkable in itself, as it reflects something… enchanted.”
“Lastly comes the stitcher, the creator of the cross-stitch. That person becomes tied to the work—tied beyond any untying. All are connected like the stitches themselves—interlaced."
Carol continued to cross-stitch with no sense of the time. Time was unimportant to her while she worked on it. She was not aware hours had passed. Carol was barely aware that her eyes were growing heavy with sleep.
Carol’s fingers began to falter. She fought off fatigue. She wanted to complete the young couple. When I get them done, I’ll stop and sleep, she thought to herself. I just need to get them done.
Her fingers moved almost mechanically but with purpose. Stitch after stitch. The instructions called for stitches to be done from left to right, then the cross from right to left. Almost there, she thought. If I get the couple done, I’ll stop.
Finally, they were done, and they looked simply wonderful. There seemed to be an innocence about their faces and their attitude reflected that old-world manner and charm that appealed to Carol.
Carol felt drawn to the cross-stitch. When she wasn’t working on it, she was content to simply look at it and study all the aspects of it. She knew every stitch. She felt an affinity between her and her cross-stitch. It is always so when someone creates something. Your creation is a part of you—part of who and what you are, and is a reflection of you.
Carol unlocked the door to her craft room and went in. She still had plenty of work on the cross-stitch and was intent on finishing it. She had to finish the cross-stitch. That much she understood from Agatha. It had to be completed with care and effort. No more slacking off. She would work on it every day, starting tonight. Despite the late hour, she made a coffee and went into the craft room. She turned on some music—ahh, Yo-Yo Ma—and studied the cross-stitch, planning her next section. Picking up her needle she made a stitch, then another, then another. This is how the magic of cross-stitch worked, one stitch at a time.
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