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Home : Community : Customer Gallery : My Mother Insisted I Learn
 

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My Mother Insisted I Learn
Created By: Cindy McMullen

When I was a young girl, my Mother, who was loved all crafts, believed all young women should learn the basics of Knitting, Crocheting, Sewing and Needlework. So after learning most of them, it was time to take up my needles and learn to knit. My project was a pair of bright green mittens and within about an hour I knew I hated knitting. It was boring, time-consuming, and not something my friends enjoyed or shared. I vowed never again to knit another thing. And I did not ... until one day ...



My husband had decided he wanted to drive a tractor trailer and he wanted me and our black lab to accompany him. Within about 2 weeks I was exceedingly bored when we happened to have a delivery in a plaza with a Craft Store. While he was attending to the truck, I wandered into the store. Believing I would find some yarn, a crochet hook and a pattern to make an afgan, I was amazed to find myself drawn to the knitting needles and believing that I no longer knew how to knit purchased a "Learn to Knit" pattern book, a pair of size 8 needles, and tons of cotton yarn.



On the road again, I fingered the yarn, felt the needles and opened the book. It all came flooding back to me. Not the bad memories, but the warmth of sitting with my Mother as she toiled with a pre-teen who had no interest in any type of needlework because "I would never need it". And as I began casting on stitches and the miles passed I found a peace I had never known. Even though my mother was not with me in that truck, she was with me in every stitch. I could never have imagined how much I "needed" to knit.



By the time we had returned home from that fateful trip, I had made multiple stops to purchase more cotton and had re-learned the basics and many new stitches. In addition, I had something to share with my Mother as I handed her my pile of dishcloths. To say she was surprised is an understatement of gigantic proportions, but she is still using cloths from those original 52 that I brought home from that fateful trip.



I have learned to knit many things since then, and whenever I take up my needles, I never do it without thinking of my mother and that truck. My early memories of hating knitting have not left and I quietly enjoy them as I knit away most evenings. But I was wrong about knitting. It isn't what I thought. Instead of being boring, it is relaxing and reflective and I find much peace in the quiet clacking of the needles.



I was correct about one thing. None of my friends knit, but I am working on that!


 
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