The Significance of a Sewing Machine

My earliest childhood memory is the click-clack of a sewing machine.

The visible things in my life were small and simple—our house, our meals. But the invisible things were large: the noise, the fear, and the violence created by my drunken father.

Despite all this, every morning my mother rose like a fresh sunrise, filled with new hope. She sat at her sewing machine, stitched bags, and earned a few coins.

That machine marked the first step toward building my future.

Every stitch spoke silently to me: “I will make you study. I will not let you beg. I will make you stand on your own feet.”

From her, I learned a powerful truth: Real strength lives in quiet persistence, not in loud speeches.

For the detailed story, navigate to my book — The Unseen Path.