Knitting: a work of love, not necessity

By Julie VanSpall

As we prepare for our new baby, we're in "knitting-mode" around this house. Well, I'm knitting; my girls are twisting yarn around crochet hooks in eager attempts to learn their first stitches. I have fond memories of growing up in a knitting-and-crocheting family, and I'm pleased to see that my daughters are as intrigued by the clicking of needles as I once was.

In my grandparents' generation, knitting was a skill most people learned out of necessity. During the cold Ontario winters, woolen clothing and blankets were essential, and making these items was much more economical than buying them.

Things have changed. Today, most people don't have to knit or crochet to stay warm. Most of us live in well-insulated, well-heated homes, and we can purchase outer wear and sweaters at a fraction of the cost of the wool alone. People are busy, and knitting isn't a priority; in general, if anyone knits, they do so as a hobby.

When I was a child, my mom and maternal grandmother taught me to knit, and my dad's mom taught me to crochet. My great-aunt modelled her skills by bringing knitting and crocheting projects to most family functions.

As a child, I aspired to gain the skills of the craftswomen in my life. I used my basic knowledge to make blankets for my cousins' dolls, and eventually progressed to baby blankets and booties. However, with time, I grew busier, and my needles began to collect dust in the back of a closet.

Looking back, I regretted the fact that the hours I had spent trying to perfect a skill had become basically futile. It also crossed my mind that my own children might never have memories of people knitting around them.

I wanted my children to have some handmade items of their own, so during my first pregnancy, I vowed that I would make each of them their very own sweater set to wear home from the hospital. So far, I've kept my word.

When I'm not counting a pattern (or cursing an error), knitting is wonderfully meditative for me. Preparing an unborn child's garments encourages me to look to the future as I focus on "just them." I wonder what they will look like. I wonder who they will become. I feel content in the knowledge that I can give them something with a piece of my heart in every stitch.

Additionally, knitting and crocheting connects me to my past. It takes me back to another time, to another couch, in the company of wonderful women; it brings memories rushing back, and deceased loved ones back to life.

Admittedly, it would be much easier to buy sweaters for my newborns, but I insist on knitting them myself. "Hobbies" such as laundry, cooking, and volunteering usurp much of my time; yet, for me, making time for knitting during pregnancy is a priority. The work is time-consuming, but the gifts of the process are priceless.

During this pregnancy I'm struck by a parallel between knitting and my faith life. Like knitting, faith was modelled, and I was instructed in it, by loved ones when I was a child. In a society which would much rather focus on instant gratification, it takes a concerted effort to keep my relationship with God alive as an adult.

Trusting in God's will and living a life of faith, day in and day out, is not always easy, and its necessity is often challenged. Unlike knitting and crocheting, I cannot afford to put my faith in the back of the closet. The world has changed; our need for faith has not.

My faith connects me to my past, keeps me focused on the present, and, most important, prepares me for my future: eternal life. The "easy way out" is often tempting, but I believe that the rewards for living a faith-filled life will exceed any joy or satisfaction I've ever known.

There is a very good chance that my children will not knit or crochet as adults. The interest is there now, so even though it is not a priority, I lay the foundation in hopes that they will find joy in these skills.

There is also a good chance that my children's generation will be even more challenged than my own with regard to keeping the Church alive. Laying a foundation of faith is a priority, and I pray that they will never allow their trust in the Lord to become "dusty."

So, as previously stated, I'm in knitting-mode, preparing to keep a baby warm and praying for its soul. I aim to weave a family united in Christ: children who make faith a priority each and every day. I also pray that the tangible gifts of my children's sweaters will remind them that their mother cared about them, body and soul, long before they were even born.