Lo, these many years ago, my mother taught me to knit. As a fumble-fingered seven-year-old, I produced a tiny red doll scarf with a fair number of unintended holes. I wouldn’t pick up knitting needles again until I was twelve. A brand-new auntie, I wanted to make mittens for my nephew. Mom was a wise and opportunistic teacher, capitalizing on my passion for aunthood to teach me the ribbing, increasing, and decreasing required to make a pair of mittens (it’s a good thing the smallest-sized pattern she had for mittens was for a toddler, as it took me two years to finish them!). From that time on, knitting became a part of my life.

In the ensuing years, I made mittens, scarves, hats, and sweaters. Knitting brought me pleasure, calm, and joy. It was a way to nourish my soul after my lively children were at last asleep. At the end of a day of wiping counters and sweeping floors that had just been wiped and swept, it restored me to work stitches that stayed put. Having something tangible to show for a half hour’s knitting fortified me for the long haul that motherhood is. What a gift my mother gave me when she patiently taught me to knit!

Then came the day that she gave me another gift. I was living far away (me in Texas, Mom in New York), so it arrived as an unexpected package in the mail. Inside I found her entire knitting needle collection, many of them dating back to the 1940’s, neatly rolled up in her needle case. I untied the yarn bow and unrolled it to the familiar sound of needles clicking and clacking against each other. How many times had I unfurled it as a child to pore over this array?  My heart swelled as I realized the meaning and the magnitude of the gift. She was telling me that in her old age, she could no longer knit. She was entrusting the tools of her craft to me, to carry it forward. What an honor!

These days I am in awe of all that has happened as I’ve carried on the work my mother began. I discovered the ministry of prayer shawl making, not knowing how much it would change me and my relationship with God. Not knowing how it would expand my heart to encompass knitting friends and sensitize it to people in need of shawls. Not knowing that my love of knitting, prayer shawl ministry, and writing would converge to create a novel, THE HEAVENLY HUGS PRAYER SHAWL MINISTRY.

I encourage you, my readers, to treasure those who taught you to knit and crochet. Even more importantly, I urge you to pass your skill on to others. You never know what may flourish from the seeds you sow!