Saturday, November 27, 2010


It isn't Christmas yet, but while here at my parents' home for Thanksgiving, two of my brothers and I received an early gift. (We'll be flying to and from our Christmas destination, so bringing extra stuff back won't be convenient.) My mom made blankets for each of us with some patterned fabric featuring Bengals or Reds logos.

I could tell that she was proud of her work and was eager to give them to us. I regret to say that before I started knitting, I don't know if I would have appreciated the gesture as much. I now know what it means to be the person making something for someone, and I know what it means to see the item being used. This weekend I noticed my dad and one of my brothers wearing the hats I made for them a couple years ago. That gave me a sense of satisfaction. My brother has clearly worn his quite a bit--it's pilling--so I may make him another.

Therein lies the magic of handcrafting. I could have just bought them hats, and my mom could have merely purchased blankets similar to those she made. Yet if it's the thought that counts, what could be more valuable than something one took the time to create on one's own?

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