I don’t suffer from depression, but my mother wrestled with it and during one of these times a well-meaning friend of mine suggested she’d offer  mother a needlepoint…. yet to be started…. and ask her if she’d have time to do it.  The ruse was that my friend had promised to do it for someone else,  couldn’t get to it and was looking for a favor!

If you’re familiar with how depression can debilitate a person,  you’ll appreciate that my mother was listless, disinterested in practically everything.  Life held very little meaning to her and she had no energy or motivation to do much of anything.

Upon hearing  the proposal,  mother had little hope she could honor the request, but  something within  appealed to her pride in her needlepointing skills, as well as her benevolent nature, and she agreed to try.

A month or so later,  mother proudly handed over the finished needlepoint . “I hope you like it” she said……… “It’s lovely…..I couldn’t have done a better job for you! , my friend said smiling, as she placed the handiwork back into my mother’s hands and gave her a big hug.

Here’s to the finished down filled needlepoint pillow all these many years later – a tribute to the will to live, against difficult odds – and a tribute to my friend, whose act of kindness  and understanding toward my mother made a meaningful difference in her life……… and in mine as well!

One stitch at a time

Sadly, back then, I lacked neither the understanding and compassion to appreciate the depth of my friend’s actions, nor the miracle of the mind, body and spirit that had occurred.  I’m ever so grateful I understand now.