Lucy Martin gripped the embroidery needle shakily with her left hand. The worn oak rocker gave a cocoon of comfort to her tired soul. A few months earlier she suffered from a stroke that caused her right hand to rest motionless in her lap. Her halo of gray white hair reflected the soft lamp light of the room. She gingerly reached into her sewing basket. With clumsy movement, she managed to pull out the baby blanket she had been embroidering. Stitch by stitch. Just a few more stitches and it would be complete. If only her right hand would work the way it had before the stroke. Every stitch was made with painstaking effort. Each thread sewn, a symbol of persevering love. Her eyes watered, it was just so difficult. She must complete it soon. The baby would be born any day now. The new mother would need a blanket for her infant daughter, to protect her from December's icy chill. She completed as many stitches as her left hand would allow, and placed her handiwork back in the basket. The daily ritual continued until the day arrived when the final stitch was knotted. The blanket was gently folded and wrapped. Finally, it was lovingly given.
The baby was me, 42 years ago. Lucy Martin, an elder sister in Christ, had a stroke which left her with many challenges. She loved a young couple, (my mom and my dad) and their baby. She showed her love with her gift. Stitch by stitch she persevered in spite of her disability. Many years have passed and Sis. Martin has gone on to her reward. She will be remembered for her selfless giving. We will never forget the dear lady who made the blanket, stitched with sacrifice and love.