Whether it's a conversation with a friend, a word that is penned, or a craft that is made, everything we do leaves a stitch in the fabric of time. Join us as we investigate the stitches of the past and present...
"To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven: ... a time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak" (Ecclesiastes 3:1, 7).
The project was described as quick and simple. I like quick
and simple. So I got out my needles and a skein of yarn and started knitting.
It had been a while since I had knitted, like years, so it
took several tries to get the first row after I’d cast on looking decent. Once
I’d accomplished that it took some more time to the rest of the stitches even.
And naturally, I didn’t have the right size needles or the right weight yarn,
so I improvised—something I do a lot. After I finished the first hand warmer
and tried it on, it was too loose at the wrist, so I ripped it out and decided
to create a cuff using a rib stitch.
Did I mention this was supposed to be quick and simple?
After a few dozen nights of knitting false starts, dropped
stitches, and ripping out rows while watching television, or rather listening
to television, I finally had a hand warmer that satisfied me. Not perfect, mind
you, but passable. I put down my knitting needles with a sigh of relief, pulled
on my hand warmers, and proudly showed the finished product to my husband.
He looked at them and said, “Those are nice. You know, it
gets cold in my office. Can you make me a pair?”
Naturally, I said,
Then I picked up the needles and cast on what I hoped was
the correct amount of stitches to create a product large enough to fit his big hands.
I knew I’d have as many false starts and flaws with this pair as I had on the
one I’d just finished, but it didn’t matter. I was grateful my husband saw the beauty in each
uneven, bumpy stitch knitted with love and would wear an imperfect product with
pride because I had made them for him.