Growing up, I was fascinated how effortlessly she put her art together. I
called it art not as a painting or sculpture but her skill made it as such. She
stitched her yarn with grace and facility that left me in awe. Seeing her work
spread on the table like a trophy when I went to her home, not asking how she
did it, I praised the intricate design she was making.
I was and still is a silent fan. Then this
week, I received a gift from her. One would think I overreacted but I cried.
She didn’t know how from afar I wished to be as good as her, maybe she was the
reason why I learned knitting. It was an easier path for me.
The desire
to learn is still inside me. I imagine my table adorn with this immaculate and delicately
stitched white cloth but there's a thousand things to do this year. So for
now, I have this gift. Moving from my sofa to our dining table every day, a
reminder of my Aunt’s artistry and a precious gift to cherish.
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