Carefully Meaning

Marie stood in her small workshop, the soft hum of the radio playing in the background. In front of her was a nearly finished sculpture, a delicate representation of a bird in mid-flight. She took a deep breath and began the final step: attaching the bird's wings to its body. With the precision of a surgeon, she moved her fingers over the fragile materials. The pieces were so small, so intricate, she had to work carefully, each motion deliberate. She knew that if she made a single mistake, the sculpture would be ruined. Her assistant, James, watched quietly from across the room. 'Are you sure you're not rushing? The deadline's coming up.' Marie shook her head, not looking up. 'I can’t afford to rush this. Every detail has to be perfect. I’ve worked too long on this to mess it up now. If I don’t do it carefully, it won’t be the piece I envision.' James nodded, though he didn't fully understand the gravity of her decision. For him, the clock was always ticking. But Marie, as always, was focused on the long-term. She knew that the best results came from careful planning and execution, not haste. Hours later, after the wings were securely attached and the piece was painted, Marie stepped back to admire her work. The sculpture seemed to come alive under the soft lighting of the workshop. It was everything she had hoped for. 'It’s perfect,' she whispered to herself, finally allowing herself a smile. She had done it carefully, just as she always did.