Part of giving handknits to kids is detaching from their fate. Do I want it to be used and loved, or do I want it to sit in a drawer? If the former, well then: I have to accept that it won't stay pristine.
I have a sort of mental rule, though, that I want them to wear the gift for at least as many hours as I spent making it before I can consign it to its uncertain future. I can't quite bring myself to think about the ratio of work time to wearing time for this gift. It's not a pretty ratio...
I didn't get to the Office of Readings until after they left for school, and it felt like a nudge from heaven to see that today was the feast of St. John Bosco. (He is best known for his work with orphaned and abandoned boys.) Here's a snippet from today's second reading: They are our sons, and so in correcting their mistakes we must lay aside all anger and restrain it so firmly that it is extinguished entirely. There must be no hostility in our minds, no contempt in our eyes, no insult on our lips. We must use mercy for the present and have hope for the future, as is fitting for true fathers who are eager for real correction and improvement.
My initial reaction was to feel sorry for myself: all that work, and poof! -- it's gone. Then I thought about how many gifts God has given me that I have failed to appreciate or even keep track of. I think I will swing by the school with a little note for my sad boy: "You are more important than the mittens."
[full post at Light and Momentary]
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This story has a happy ending:
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