Her mittens
Before things warm up too much here, there are a couple of left over things from the winter that I wanted to share with you. This is a post about warm woolly mittens in the sweetest pinky-peach color, knit by my mother's mother when I was a little girl. She knit them for my oldest cousin Mondy (whose name is still sown inside these on a little tag), and then when they grew too small for her, these mittens were passed down to me. This holds true to my grandmother's family tradition where nothing was wasted and everything was reused.
All through this winter Carys has worn the mittens, and each and every time that she puts them on I think of my Grandmother. I think how amazing it is that something that she touched, knit together with her own hands, is now keeping my little girl's hands warm. My grandmother died the summer that I turned 16, and I don't have many things left in my possession that she touched. She was the kind of mother and grandmother who showed her love through making things for people. In most of my memories of her she is either at her sewing machine or working in her kitchen. I think that she would feel so proud that her great-granddaughter wore these mittens all winter...especially because truly nothing was waisted, not even a bit.
All through this winter Carys has worn the mittens, and each and every time that she puts them on I think of my Grandmother. I think how amazing it is that something that she touched, knit together with her own hands, is now keeping my little girl's hands warm. My grandmother died the summer that I turned 16, and I don't have many things left in my possession that she touched. She was the kind of mother and grandmother who showed her love through making things for people. In most of my memories of her she is either at her sewing machine or working in her kitchen. I think that she would feel so proud that her great-granddaughter wore these mittens all winter...especially because truly nothing was waisted, not even a bit.