A Shawl for Jean

My fingers move quickly, a bright red aluminum crochet hook dancing around and over and up and through soft green yarn.  I think of Jean, whom I do not know, but is sister to a friend and who has lost her second child.  My friend told us the story this evening at our prayer shawl gathering; her sister had lost her daughter (aged 54) several years ago and now has lost her son as well.  None of us could possibly imagine her pain, her grief.

It must be agony that only Divine Love can heal, and even that takes time.  I don’t even pause to wonder; I pull out the soft green yarn I bought a few weeks ago.  I didn’t know who that shawl would be for when I bought the yarn, I just knew that it would be for someone in need of prayer. Tonight, I know it’s for Jean, and I start to stitch.

I watch the hook, feel the yarn.  This is a particularly soft yarn, a single ply acrylic with long, subtle color changes in hues of green with occasional gold tones.  My hook slides around it like butter, and I am soothed by the simple act of yarn over, pull through. I think of Jean, praying for her, hoping to send just a little of this simple serenity her way.

I think of my own two children, both young adults. They make mistakes, and are trying to navigate the world in that collegiate neither-land between “home” and “on their own.” Sometimes they frustrate me, and sometimes they surprise me with spurts of maturity.  I give thanks that they are both healthy, vibrant, good and kind, realizing the rest of responsible adulthood  will come with time.  I realize that door has shut for Jean’s children, and I pray for her comfort.  I feel assured that she will have it; I also know it will not be without great pain.

My house is quiet, and it is nighttime, so I chant the 23rd Psalm very softly, the sound soothing much as the yarn.  I release these simple acts and prayers into the Divine, back to where they came from.  I feel a soft ripple in the Universe, and imagine wings as angelic helpers tend to Jean here on earth.

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