Prayer shawls, and chemo hats and scarves for the community. Made with love and prayers for healing, and yarn in pretty, bright colors.
It was frighteningly easy to get those distributed. Jack and I immediately set aside some for cancer fighters we knew: an elegant executive approaching retirement coping with breast cancer; a buoyant cat rescuer who lets nothing get her down, including chemo; a young mom facing killer lymphoma; one of my most feminine ever friends, a healthy-eating, beautiful, petite woman who has that rare kind of cancer prevalent in men of African descent; and a 12-year-old boy (who got the camouflage lap blanket).
The rest we gave to my friend Leigh Anne – herself fighting cancer, and the director of our local cancer center – to bless those who might have less family and friends around them when they need a warm fuzzy moment.
Of all the things Little Bookstore has done, this might be the nicest: that people bring to our community gifts of love from theirs. When I put out an appeal last summer for postcards, so the Quakers doing prison visits could send them to guys in the federal penitentiary, y’all sent 400 cards, plus the nicest notes, and even sheets of stamps. When my friend and I stared making “spay and neuter afghans” to pay for the cats of Wise County being rendered non-reproductive, people on the West and East coasts and many places in between bought them.
And when I’ve blogged about friends in need–Sue’s bookstore in Wisconsin, the stealing of Elissa’s dog rescue raffle money–responses have been practical, and sweet, and positive. Sure there’s stuff that goes wrong with the world, but while there are women knitting prayer shawls filled with love, how bad can it be?
Stay warm, y’all.