Fiber Milagro: A little help from my friends
June 22nd, 2009Miracles happen every day… You just have to notice and be grateful! We asked you to send us your knitting milagro stories, and were amazed at the response. Thank you to everyone for sharing. Keep paying attention!
Here is the winning essay, by intrepid knitter Jan Brick… whose daily mantra when encountering doubts and fears (never say failures!) is “I try new things!”. Thanks Jan, you made us cry happy tears!
My Yarn Milagro
by Jan Brick
It is not merely yarn you can find in a yarn shop. Although when I say merely, I don’t really mean merely. Yarn in its various colors, textures and possibilities can soothe, electrify and feed the soul. But pay attention the next time you’re ogling, fondling and lusting after the sumptuous skeins of cashmere and organic cotton and wool in every tinge of color in the earth, sky and water. (Yes, knitting is sexy; shh, don’t tell.)
Listen. Listen to the exclamations of delight: “I can’t believe you have this color!” “This is so soft!” “Is this really machine washable?”
Look. Look at the eyes that close dreamily as a brilliant blue cashmere/silk combination is rubbed against a cheek. Look at the smile of satisfaction on the face of our own Wink when a customer finds the perfect yarn to go with a tattered yellowed pattern she found going through her mother’s attic after her sad passing. And don’t forget to imagine the little victory dance on the other end of the phone when Tink says, “Yes, we have that!”
I’m going to ask you to go deeper still, beyond listening, looking and imagining. I’m asking you to feel the invisible. Feel the joy that a shy knitter feels describing her yarn and pattern (and perhaps vagaries of the project) to someone who understands. This knitter doesn’t go to parties because she doesn’t know what to say. But here she is chatting with a stranger about just how many stitches she should have on the needle when the pattern doesn’t specify.
Feel the solace of a mother who’s lying awake nights waiting for an errant child to come home, who has come here to forget. She doesn’t think she can, and yet the talk of sock-knitting, the shop’s 93 year old gentleman friend, and who has finished what project take her to a safe place for a little while.
Feel the balm I feel walking into a home away from home, sharing the fact of my lay-off after eight and a half years at the same company, sharing my excitement over a new job, sharing my sorrow and shame that the new job didn’t work out. Feel my comfort when my yarn shop family assures me that shame is out of the question.
Move on from the negative, they each tell me in their own way, gentle, boisterous, thoughtful or chatty. The funny thing is, that’s what they tell me about my knitting. Move on, keep going, here’s a little help, now you’re back on track, keep going. Keep going.
Although to keep going seems like the only choice, it’s really not. There are knitting projects I’ve put aside, pretty sure that I would never pick them up again. And that’s allowed, too, the way that my boosters at the yarn shop told me that obviously I had no choice at the job that didn’t work out but to leave.
It is a microcosm, this little shop that used to be a candy shop that used to be a gas station. They dispense the wisdom that we should have gotten from our parents, but so often did not. Do your best, try your hardest, ask for help when you need it, don’t beat a dead horse, keep going, move on. Move on. Let your friends help you and move on.
Here is Jan in Belize. She wins a $100 gift basket from Yarns in the Farms.
