Gert wasn’t a fancy knitter. When her cancer returned, I brought her a prayer shawl. Sometime during her final illness, she decided to knit a prayer shawl for someone else. Nothing fancy, a simple rectangle in a nubby brown yarn. Knit and pray. Pray and knit.
The design of the prayer shawl is intentionally simple. You knit till you get to the end of the row. Then you knit your way back. With no variation of stitches, you can pray as you knit, usually for the person who will wear the shawl.
Gert died before that nubby brown prayer shawl was completed. One of her friends finished it and brought it to me. I treasure Gert’s prayer shawl, not because it was exquisitely knit. It was not. I treasured it because Gert had laced her prayers in every stitch. Her prayer shawl draped casually my couch, a gentle reminder of the tangible gift of prayer. Then one of Gert’s friends got sick. I took her the prayer shawl and wrapped her in Gert’s prayers, reminding us both that prayer is from everlasting to everlasting.