Years ago, before moving to China, I knitted a simple red sweater which quickly become my favourite. I took it overseas with me, and wore it often each bitter winter there, when the temperature didn’t get above freezing point for weeks every year.
After eight years, I was tired, irritable and miserable. In everyone’s best interests, I asked for extended leave and returned to my homeland – Australia. Reluctantly, I put my favourite red sweater in the bag of clothing to be ‘given to the poor’.
A recent visitor to our project in China returned with a package for me. In it was my sweater, lovingly taken apart and reknitted by my dear colleague, Teacher Zhang. It is no longer a perfect fit (Chinese people can’t accept how big western chests really can be) but it is very special and more than ever my favourite.
As I prepare to return to the work in China that God has prepared for me to do, I again pack my favourite red sweater. Indeed, I am that sweater, as I express in this vignette inspired by that piece of clothing.
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I am my favourite red sweater.
Simple big stiches, brightly coloured, flecks of many colours.
Not stylish, not fancy, just ‘take me as I am’.
Yet many winters have left me worn-out, stretched and abandoned.
Picked up, rescued, taken apart and lovingly knitted together again.
Not quite perfect, but pretty darn good.
Once again vibrant, warm, full of life, and ready to be put to use.
I am that favourite red sweater.
If you died today, are you absolutely certain that you would go to heaven? You can be! TRUST JESUS NOW
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This little article does say a lot about you and the way you value the small yet important things of life. You must be really loved for someone to rescue the sweater and them re knit it for you. Love the way the poem and the text work together.
Suzanne, I honestly loved this (must be the knitter in me). I'm so glad you included the introduction about your old sweater, but the poem was what really hit home. I had to be "re-knitted" about five years ago. It wasn't fun - being unravelled rarely is. But the end result was worth it. I'll never forget this little poem. With love, Deb