Ugly by modern standards.
Heavy enough to injure your foot if you dropped it.
One of the buttons had faded from years of use, and there was a tiny burn mark near the cord where my father had once rested a hot baking tray too close to it.
Most people would have thrown it away years ago.
I would not have traded it for anything.
So when my neighbor Vanessa Cole stood on my porch one Thursday afternoon and asked to borrow it, every instinct in my body said no.
And because I had spent most of my life confusing kindness with avoiding discomfort, I said yes.
That was the mistake.
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