MASKA HELPED ANGIE carve a crochet needle from oak wood, just as Angie had described it to him.
“This tool will be strong,” Maska said as he sanded it, to make it smooth.
He smiled as he handed it to Angie. Chocheta and her sister, Sisika, were admiring the different colors of yarn, handling each one. Angie showed the girls how to purl a long row and then began to crochet her design with the yarn, being careful to stitch in blessings just as her mother had taught her. Chocheta and Sisika laughed at Angie each time she added a blessing, but were soon dreaming up some of their own for Angie to stitch into the blanket.
In the mornings, Angie took her blanket to Chocheta’s family’s camp as they wanted to watch her work. Even Amitola added blessings to the blanket. The women from around the village came to sit with Amitola and watch Angie stitch the ‘blessing’ blanket, fascinated by the colored string.
In the afternoon, Angie would work on her blanket at her own camp. Halona was not interested in the blanket. She would just shake her head as Angie named each blessing being stitched.
“Where did you hide my yarn?” Angie asked Halona one day.
Halona didn’t respond, but Angie kept asking.
“I give it to Haiwee, “Halona told her, “She keep it for me.”
Haiwee was an old widow who lived on the other side of the village. She was a kind old woman and one who spent her time with the other widows. Not once did Haiwee let on that she had the yarn. She kept her promise to Halona.
As the blanket began to take shape, winter was beginning to fade. The cold was easing and there were new buds on the trees. Angie realized she must have turned 15 years old by now. One day ran into another here. Only the seasons mattered.
Angie missed her relationship with her old friends. It was good to spend time with Chocheta and her family, but it was not the same. She especially missed Kimana. She set her blanket down and walked to Kimana’s camp. Kimana saw her coming and came to meet her. The girls hugged each other and Kimana began to cry.
“I miss you,” Angie told her.
“I too miss you,” Kimana told her, “I am sorry for how I behaved.”
“What do you mean?” Angie asked her.
“When Dyami’s baby died, I was very angry,” Kimana said, “at everyone. I did not want to talk about our pain. It was easier not to see you. Not to see Chocheta or Leotie. Only Dyami. We mourned together.”
“Is Takhi alright?” Angie asked her.
“She is very sad,” Kimana told Angie, “she does not talk.”
Angie nodded as she understood the deep feelings that loss brings.
“I will marry soon,” Kimana said. “Will you come to the ceremony?”
“Of course,” Angie smiled, “I will be there.”
The girls hugged again and then a feeling of closeness came over them.
“Come,” Angie said as she took Kimana by the hand. “Let us go find Chocheta and Leotie and talk. We need to talk. Tell us all about Dyami and your wedding.”
The girls sat by the river and talked for hours, laughing and enjoying the renewal of their friendship. Laughter was replaced by tears and hugs, and then the laughter returned. It felt so good to Angie to feel a part of this circle of friends again.
As Angie returned to her tent, Kimana walked with her. Angie wanted to show her the bowl she’d made and the blanket she was working on. Soon after Halona received her gift from Angie, she set the bowl out in front of the teepee to proudly display it. Kimana was surprised how beautiful the painting was and she was amazed by the crocheted blanket.
“I have not seen anything like this,” Kimana held the blanket in her hands, examining the design. “It is very beautiful. Will you give it to me… as a wedding gift?”
Angie began to stutter, “I cannot. It is all I have left of my family.”
Kimana nodded sadly and then walked away, back to her camp.
Angie would do almost anything for Kimana and she felt guilty for not giving the blanket to her. The more she considered the idea, the more her heart ached.
“I cannot,” she told herself. “I just cannot part with it.”