A Rememberance May 26th 2025 251 words

My great aunt, Minnie Turnbull, was a skilled knitter. She would knit lovely sweaters for nieces and nephews for birthday gifts. They had details such as covered buttons, and mohair striping in the body. My favorite was a bright pink sweater with two white mohair stripes on the chest. I loved to run my fingers across the white stripe noting the difference between the white and pink stitches. Wearing that sweater, I felt special.
All too soon, I outgrew the sweater. My mother cleaned it to store for future family members. It was stored for many years in a cedar chest. When my niece, Katelyn, was old enough to wear it, the sweater was gifted to her. Rubbing her fingers across the mohair gave her pleasure. Wearing the sweater for a year, she finally out grew it. It was cleaned and packed away again to wait for another Turnbull girl.
When my daughter was five, the sweater was unpacked and given to her. She loved to feel the mohair stripes on the chest of the sweater. She wore the garment until it was outgrown.
The other day, I was visiting my two grand nieces. The oldest one, Eliza, sported a pink sweater with two white mohair stripes on the chest. Knitted by loving hands over seventy five years before. It has held up to the test of time over generations. I told the sweater’s journey, as Eliza rubbed her fingers across the white mohair striping.
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Copyright 5-26-2025