Sometimes it’s the smallest things…

Day 5- Thank You Letter to Someone who has changed your life.

 

Dear tiny old woman,
It’s kind of sad that I don’t remember your name. I’m sure you don’t remember me though, so maybe we can let the name thing slide. I was a senior in high school when we met. I do know that it was the last 6 weeks of the year and I was in Home Ec. It was the time of year where we did our last big project to submit for contests or whatever it was they called it. We were all supposed to bring in supplies and work on it for the rest of the school year.

I was one of the poor kids. I didn’t have money for anymore supplies. I was completely tapped out. All the costs that come with graduating drained all of the funds that I had. Cap and Gown, yearbook, prom, college application fees, well I don’t suppose I have to tell you all I was trying to pay for. I was already working 30 hours a week even though 17 year olds weren’t supposed to work that many hours. I was killing myself with everything that I was doing. I had to keep my grades up so that I could get scholarships. Juggling several extracurricular activities (ROTC, Civinettes, Journalism, Marksmanship) so that increased my chances of a decent school.

In my 17 year old mind that final project killed it all. I didn’t have money so I would fail that block of class and that would bring down my gpa. Clearly the end of the world for  me at the time. My teacher was insistent that if I wanted to pass I needed to have a project or part of a project where I learned a new skill.

That’s where you come into the picture. You see Cosmetology was in the same block as Home Ec, and the students there would cut and dye hair for free for the seniors. I guess you remember that, though. You came in one day to take advantage of the free hair styling and found me in the hall crying.  You took the time to stop and ask what was wrong. After I told you, you patted me on the head and told me to wait there, that you had something in your car.

When you came back you handed me a bag. Inside you had the most awesome thing ever (even though I didn’t know it at the time). You gave me a set of knitting needles and a couple balls of yarn.  I don’t remember how you worked it out but four days later you convinced the school to let you volunteer and teach us poor kids how to knit.

You were really awesome too. Your biggest insistence was the stitches HAD to be even. If they weren’t I had to start over. It didn’t matter that I didn’t know how to purl yet, or even how to cast off. Nope that shit was gonna be even. If not it would look like poo. And, honestly, that is the biggest thing that helped me in my knitting.

So even though, I don’t remember your name you changed my life. No I didn’t go to those great schools. I didn’t even finish my degree. But I had those opportunities, I was just an idiot. Even more than that you gave me the foundation for one of the few things I feel I excel at; one of the few things that make me enjoy my time.

I’ll always be grateful that you not only stopped to ask but offered your time to help me and the kids like me.

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~ by Last Night Here on January 7, 2011.

One Response to “Sometimes it’s the smallest things…”

  1. I just now read this. I nearly cried.

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