humbled 4

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All I have to do really, is, to push the lever back and forth and make sure that the yarn runs through smoothly. It does seem easy, but the lever is heavy and the yarn goes trough at high speed and can get muddled up if I'm not paying attention. The other thing that makes this agonizing is, that I have to do all of this whilst being slightly hunched over. 

My hands are on fire and the blisters are getting worse and worse, as I push the heavy lever back and forth. My back burns and so do my arms. After a while, I start to develop a headache due to the constant concentration, the loud noises and the lack of oxygen caused also by the pits of cotton flying about at all times. BUT despite all I manage, sort of. It's my determination that keeps me going. As I work I get a small glimpse of what  Mary's life is like and that of the other people in here. It is only a small insight really but already I am humbled and thankful. I have to really fight the tears that are threatening to flow partly due to the agony I'm experiencing and because of the unjust society we live in. 

Whilst my thoughts wander, I notice a red substance on the lever. I realize it is blood, my own blood, my hands are bleeding, the blisters must have opened. Horrified I imagine the blood staining the cotton. Desperate I look up at the woman who worked me in. She only needs a few moments to analyze the situation, hastily she passes me strips of old cotton and signalizes for me to wrap them around my hands. I follow suit.  After I'm able to carry on. None of the yarn has gotten stained or tangled up in the meantime and I'm immensely grateful. 

I am resuming my monotonous project only to be interrupted by THAT man's voice. He is talking to one of the workers close to me. Heat rises to my cheeks, I seem to tense up and my concentration wavers. I nearly missed a thread. I try to focus, I don't want to make a mistake while he watches me and he is watching me I'm quite sure of that. It's almost as if I can feel his eyes burning into my back. I become aware of my condition. Not only am I paining, I'm also sweating. I don't want to know what I look like at the moment or smell like for the matter. I dare not to look up. "What is your name," he says, he is talking to me. I have to look up now. I am quite sure my face must be bright red, I hope he thinks it's from working so hard. "Elizabeth, sir," I reply getting pulled into the abyss of his eyes yet again. His forehead creases as a reaction to that, but he stays friendly. "Resume your work," he says seemingly nonchalant, with that he turns and leaves. For me, it is a small victory. He approves of my work and I'm doing well. I'm a little proud of myself. 

But not for long. I get my threads in a terrible mess and the kind woman who has taken me under her wing has to help me. In order to do this, she has to turn our machines off. I realize that she is losing time and so do I. I feel sorry for myself. What was I thinking? I have been stubborn and proud!!! Yes, those were the reasons why I wanted to work here in the first place. I wanted the excitement of something new and unpredictable and I wanted to show everybody that I can do this as well as they can. I will pull this through, but then I will go and apologize to Higgins and Mary for my arrogance!! I am thankful, though, for this experience, I have never felt pain like this before or exhaustion and the inside I was able to obtain I don't want to miss anymore. 

And then just when I think I can't go on, my back will break or I will fall asleep right where I'm standing, the bell rings, the bell to signalize the end of work. I straighten myself and sway. That kind woman takes my arm. " You have done well, miss Elizabeth," she says but I can no longer feel pride. "Thank you," I look into her kind eyes and want to cry. I'm so very exhausted. She leads me out of the Mill. On our way, we pass the man. He watches me intently. I look at him and I can see curiosity in his eyes. Then he turns and leaves. 

Higgins is waiting for me outside, concern in his face, he takes over from the woman. I can hear her saying goodbye but I only manage to nod. Then I can feel Higgins strong arms leading me forward. I start crying, due to my exhaustion, I'm incredibly emotional. I'm eager to restore my friendship with him as it is truly making me upset. "I'm so very sorry for my pretentiousness Mr. Higgins, working at the Mill today; I have learned a great deal. I am grateful for the insides I have obtained but I have also realized how wrong I have been, how arrogant." He chuckles. "Miss Elizabeth, you have your heart in the right place. Life can be a hard school. I admire your willingness to learn." 

He helps me to get to the main road. "I suggest you take a carriage today," he knows that I like to walk home but I agree, today I can not walk, I would probably fall asleep walking. There is one matter I still need to address tho: "Mr. Higgins, I am concerned for your families welfare, Mary will not be able to work for a while, I am quite sure of that and neither can I, I've realized this today but I have great riches, Mr. Higgins and I have grown very fond of your family, will you please allow me to help?"  

I can see that this is troubling him. I have come to know him as a proud self-sufficient man and having to accept my help might mean for him to lose some of his dignity. But in the end, he nods. "Miss Elizabeth I praise God for bringing you into our life, accepting your help is hard for me but I have to think about the children," he says, he seems broken in a way. "Mr. Higgins to me you are a very wise man and I look up to you. My help will simply be a token of gratitude for all the life experiences I am gaining thanks to you and your family."

"You never cease to surprise me," Higgins shakes his head smiling again and then suddenly I have one more request. "Mr. Higgins, that man who is in charge of the Mill, who is he?" 

"That Miss Elizabeth is Mr. Thornton, he is a fine gentleman and a friend of mine. But he may appear  sour, he has had to experience a great deal of heart ship." That bit of information I expected it was expressed in his eyes. Mr. Thornton....

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