|I’m admiring the texture of this Thick and quick wool-ease yarn #TagsForLikes @TagsForLikes #crochet #crocheting #crochetpattern #crochetporn #Crocheting #crochetaddict #crochetlove #crochethat #crochetgoodness #crochethook #crochetlover #crochetcreations #crochetgeek #crocheter #crochethat via strawberrycouture1970
An interesting thing happened to me a few moments ago. A little girl who lives in our neighborhood like to come by and give me a rose. Her grandfather grows and nurtures roses like your couldn’t believe it: red, peach, yellow…the whole 9 yards. My husband and I don’t have any children. He has children from a previous marriage. I was an only child and HATED it. I was always surrounded with older people: my grandparents’ age. I was upset because i was born too late. “Why couldn’t have been born in the 1930’s?” I asked myself. i wanted be BE grown up.
Anyway, growing up, the adults situations became bigger and bigger to the point where I forgotten what it is like when a 7-year-old girl. my husband is the outgoing type. He’ll talk to the neighbors just about anyone. me, otherwise I am the reserved type. I’m the behind-the-scenes kind of person.
Mary, her name, was so AMAZED how my sewing craft room was; full of bright-colored yarns and textures. Tools of every kind. She asked dozens of questions someone older would ask,” Can you teach me how to crochet?” to “Let me try on your hats you have for your shop” She gallantly walked to my hat bin and helped herself to some hats. I didn’t say anything. She’s just a girl. Maybe she has no one to play with. I felt for her for I was in her shoes once. She went into my half-made projects where all my “mistakes” were. She pulled out an experiment and “sashayed” it around her neck. “Sure, you can have it”, I remarked. Did you know I never thought of thinking it as a “sashay” as I rapidly crocheted her a little moebius bracelet?
It’s amazing what you can forget: the life experiences she is about to face but we have faced; the innocence she has not yet lost.
I walked her home, her parents were moving into their house across from the grandma’s house. They were carefully taking out their furniture as I walked in with Mary. I told her parents where she was and what we were doing. her parents looked at me like I was their savior! It felt good for taking in the time to spend with her; but how I forgot the amazement of a child’s insight.
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