I can’t think of anything to write tonight about crafts or my love of working with my hands. I did have a warm feeling today. I’ve been helping a neighbor with some details due to his wife’s passing two nights ago. We were looking for clothing for her. In the midst of her things, I found many handmade items.
I know their family members will be here in a day or so. Many of those things will go home with various children, cousins, and so on. Some, she may have made herself. Others, I know for a fact, she bought at craft fairs, and I’m sure there are one or two things over there that she bought from me over the years.
Handcrafted items have a way of surviving life’s tragedies and sadness. They have a way of healing hearts with their warmth and their memories.
I wasn’t sure I had anything to say tonight. Maybe I do. Maybe I need to say how our handmade items survive the test of time, bridge gaps, and give comfort, for many people, for a long, long time.
Father, thank you for the chance to make things that might one day bring comfort to someone, even if I never know that person.
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