I’ve been working on my craft for years. On a stressful day it has been my refuge, when I’m lonely…my friend, warm when I’m cold. 

When I was in the second grade, I sat next to this odd looking girl on the bus. We had assigned seats so there was no way of not sitting next to her. She was beyond weird at first glance. She looked real homey, her breathe was rancid, and our conversations were awful. 

We sat together everyday and maybe a month or so after we started sitting next to each other she pulled out a crochet needle and a soft fuzzy ball of yarn. She made three little Granny squares on the hour ride home. 

Her hands moving calmly and rhythmically around the little square. I was intrigued because I had never actually seen someone crochet in person before. I mean, I’ve seen blankets at people’s houses that were knitted but I had never actually seen a granny square. 

The first couple of times, I just sat and watched. I thought it was the neatest thing ever. Then I started to ask questions and the big question was why was each square a different color. She said her mother couldn’t really afford a lot of yarn but she would use the scrap yarn that her mom had left over.  Apparently, her mom would make extra money selling her blankets. I just thought it was such a great arts and craft idea and that she must make a bunch of money selling those blankets. I was in awe. 

I finally got the courage to ask her if she would let me try. I’m left handed and she is right handed and even though she had an up hill battle ahead of her, she was so patient and she started to teach me. This girl who had very meager means gave me my first crochet needle and yarn. I used an entire bundle of yarn making single stitches and slowly graduated to making crooked rows. She started my first granny square towards the middle of the school year and we sat on that bus everyday talking and being in our own little world. My first granny square was so jacked up too. It kept curling up because it was so tight and I wasn’t counting the corners correctly. By the next school year, I never saw the girl from the bus ever again. She was a sixth grader and she went on to junior high. 

I didn’t truly learn how to crochet until my dad remarried. My step mom, sisters, and nieces  all can crochet different patterns and they make ridiculously beautiful blankets. I’m still working on my granny square. Too me, it’s the best and easiest to do. 

I don’t sell them. I have gotten more requests for blankets but I could never keep a time table for how long it would take me to finish one. I’m just happy that I picked a craft that I can appreciate, especially on a cold winter day. 


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