I was in my early teens (I believe I was 13) and my mother was and is a crocheting wonder. During October and November, she would crochet Afghans for friends and family, but as of yet, I had never received one. She was starting a new project and asked for my color choices, thus I helped her picked out the colors and she set about working on the afghan. During the entire month she worked on the project, I kept saying that it was mine and like always, she denied that the afghan was mine. I finally gave up and continued about my business improving my "list to Santa" adding and subtracting, as I deemed necessary.
On Christmas Eve, it was custom to visit a family friend's home to open gifts and have a merry time. The gift exchanging and paper flying commenced. I do not remember what I received that night, but the one thing I do recall was the afghan was indeed given as a gift to my mother's friend. I was heart broken, but I did not show it. Once the gift giving was done, I went with the other children and played, thinking nothing more of the lost afghan.
Now it is Christmas morning and "Santa" was abundant in his gift giving and I was happy with what I had received. There was one gift left to be opened and it was addressed to me. Not sure what it could have been as I had received all that I had asked for, I opened the gift. My eyes teared up and I laughed so hard that I could not breathe - there was the afghan, my pastel rainbow ripple afghan, folded neatly and waiting for me. It was the best Christmas and funniest moment that has continued to stay with my for over 30 years and yes, I still have and use the pastel rainbow ripple afghan.
Published by Della R. Buckland
I'm naught but a wanderer of this realm. My passion is discovery and my interests many. Not just your average wanderer, but one of history and time. My writings vary as I am truly interested in many things f... View profile
