We watched our little friend Dannika for a few days last summer. We were still living in Saint John and she came to stay at our house. She's a couple of years older than Henry, and so stayed up a little later.
I remember Erin had taken our kids into the bedroom while I sat up with Dannika. She was old enough to spend time by herself looking at books. While she quietly read, I hauled out my knitting.
After about 30 seconds, I could tell she was paying more attention to what I was doing than to her book.
"What are you doing?"
"What are you knitting?"
"Socks. For Henry."
"How do you do that?"
"Why don't you sit beside me and I'll show you?"
She plopped on the couch. I showed her the ball of yarn sitting beside me. She watched how it fed into my fingers, wrapped around them and got twisted up by the sticks to become sock. She was very patient and very curious.
"How do you know how to do that?"
"I read how to do it in a book. And I took a couple of lessons."
"Can you teach me?"
"You might find it a bit hard. It took me a long time to learn."
She looked disappointed.
"Would you like your own ball of yarn and some needles?"
She unwound the ball, wrapped it around her needles and moved them around in a knitting way. She kept looking up to what I was doing for pointers. We knit for a half-hour before it was time for bed.
It's been probably six months since I've seen Dannika; a lot has happened in her life in that time. She's been, literally, around the world and back. She and her family are back in Saint John again, and she's started to ask about knitting.
Her mum sent me a note today to tell me she's teaching herself to knit in order to teach Dannika. I wish I could be around to help, but I think the end result will be another two knitters in this world. Surely, that can only be a good thing.