Tuesday, April 23, 2013
Blessing through Knitting/Crocheting
You have walked me through the last several blogs in the process of creating these three special afghans going to three (actually four since one is a couple) special people in my life. You have gone with me through using the left-brain cognitive skills to form the patterns, make the fringe, weave in the threads. You have seen them in their unfinished state with threads hanging out all over the place.
You have seen them strung up on the clothesline for a photo shoot - which they posed for very nicely. Even adding some character at times as they flapped in the gentle breeze.
But what you don't know, as Paul Harvey always said, is the "rest of the story".
You know the how and the what. Also the when. But you don't know the why or the who.
Why would I spent such a vast amount of time and energy, not to mention money, on not one but three blankets for one family? Who are they? What makes them special?
During my sojourn through decades of creating, I've made countless articles for many people in many different circumstances of life: prayer shawls, baby blankets, chemo hats, doilies ... just to name a few. Some of the patterns have become "special" patterns reserved for only a few.
That sounds discriminatory but extra work is required for these works of art. They're not just ordinary afghans that you might see for sale in a craft sale. They're ... well ... to be redundant ... works of art.
In this case, the special person is a relative who has been in remission from a chronic auto-immune disorder for several years. The special occasion is the adoption of her second child - a boy. Under the circumstances, a very special cause to rejoice and give thanks. To pull out the crochet needles and special patterns and start "hooking".
And, of course, it has to be suitable for a boy. For the first adoption, I did something a bit strange on the strange side - unless you possess a deranged mind like I do. A year or more before there was any nibble on the adoption front, I pulled out my most "special" pattern, one with a puffed heart edge, and my crochet hook. While creating this blanket, I prayed for the baby it would one day cover. I prayed for the adoption process. I prayed as though the child it would cover was already in utero when in reality it had not been conceived. More than a year later, my niece and her husband held a beautiful little girl in their arms. The staff at the hospital said that they had never seen an adoption go so smoothly.
Now six, the little girl recently found that blanket and brought it down to her mother asking who made this? Where did I get it from? So her mom told her the story of how her great aunty had made it before she was born and prayed for her as she created the blanket stitch by stitch. The little girl looked at her mom and said matter-of-factly as only a six-year-old can, "So that's why I'm here" and took the blanket up to her room. It became her favorite blanket after that conversation.
Now, she's been promoted to "big sister" and I felt that deserved it's own special acknowledgement. After all, the baby becomes the centre of focus. So since this particular pattern can be made in a youth size, she I made a blanket just for her to match her baby brother's.
And then there's all the yarn left over. What to do with that? That's how the middle afghan in a star shape came to be. As I ran out of one yarn, I patched in another. Round and round. Simple, right-brain activity at its best. Relaxing. Restoring. Letting the mind rest once again.
Last week, I bought three boxes from Canada Post. Boxed each blanket individually. And mailed them off.
The other day, I got a special phone call. The voice on the other end was not my niece. Rather it was my six-year-old great niece thanking me for her blanket and telling me how much she like it.
A special thank-you from a very special person for a special blanket.
As I say good-bye to these projects, there is a void. However, as nature abhors a vacuum, I'm already into the next projects. What will they be? Who will they go to?