Years ago, when my husband and I were first married, we lived in the same town as my Grandma Ruby. Many mornings I would stop by her house on my walk to work.
Grandma Ruby could knit and crochet like no body's business. One cold morning, I stopped in without mittens on my hands. When I stopped again on my way home, she handed me a pair of mittens (and a hat) that she had whipped up that afternoon.
While walking the rest of the way home with my new mittens warming my hands, I had a thought. A thought about my sisters and me and our future babies. Grandma Ruby was getting older, and I didn't like to think about it, but it occurred to me that she might not be able to meet all our babies. Her future great-grand babies. So the next day I asked her if she would be willing to make some baby blankets. I told her I'd love to have a blanket made by her to give to each one of my sisters for their first baby. She was very willing and so excited.
On my lunch break, I stopped by the Ben Franklin across the street and picked out the softest white yarn I could find. I dropped it off on my walk back home. I don't remember exactly how long it took her to complete the blankets. Maybe a week? Probably less. She made five. One for me and each of my sisters, and one for my sister-in-law, Kara. (She loved Kara, and wanted her to get in on the blanket action as well.) They were each different and wonderful. I carefully stored them, and waited patiently for the day when I would give them each away.
Grandma Ruby was only able to meet one of our babies. But each sister received a special Grandma Ruby blanket for the birth of her first baby.
On Saturday, I get to give away the last blanket lovingly made by my Grandma Ruby's hands. I know for certain she prayed for the baby that would receive this blanket. And for the mama that would place it over her sweet babe.