Tokyo gift

Dear Kind Lady in Tokyo:

Thank you so much for sending your childhood crochet hook case with a full set of hooks, and the yellow and wine-red yarns. When we met, you heard what my American friends sent with me, and wanted to participate. Thanks for jumping in. 

Maybe you thought it would bring someone a little income. A home business of sorts. It still might, since there are a lot of hooks left. But initially, it brought smiles, rest, and something to do. 

About thirty-five tired and cooped-up kids, moms, and grandmas from Fukushima City came North to a Christian campground to play and rest. 

What a different world for them. No radiation to keep them indoors. Only the cold air to force their playtime to end. Edible snowballs (which are quite yummy--I had a couple myself). Ground to roll around on. No moms worrying about future thyroid problems when you tube down the hill and get a faceful of snow. Indoors, the only enemy to shriek and run from or attack was the rather abundant number of stinkbugs taking shelter for the winter. 

I didn't see much of your yarn. After outside play was over, it got buried in the middle of a swarm of girls from age five to seventy-seven. Occasionally a little girl would pop out of the swarm with a ball of yarn and ask how to finger-knit. And here and there I saw the gold flash of crochet hooks in the hands of the adults. 

After a while there were finger-knitted scarves all over the place. Even the preacher man joined in and made one. The girls now have one more thing they can do indoors when they get home, and hopefully they will remember the safer world that's still out here. 

Granny scarves took a while longer. One little boy found one of the grannies fascinating, and learned how to chain stitch, and asked her for the striped yellow and wine-red scarf she made. Granny smiles are gorgeous. 

And mom. She barely mentioned in passing that she had lived in temporary housing for a while. She took home two of your hooks for a restart. One for lace and the other for regular yarn. 

Once the smaller girls found out I also had hair ties in my pocket for them, they mobbed mom for crocheted hair ties. A tie plus yarn plus an adult with a crochet hook. Simple. Mom was busy for a while, but didn't seem to mind much. 

All of this was punctuated with cries of STINKBUG!! It generally meant someone had to catch it. Sometimes it meant reassuring a scared little girl that it's OK to be scared, but that the stinkbug won't hurt her. Sometimes it was already heroically or accidentally squished. Occasionally it meant coaxing a kid out of hiding, or accompanying a kid to the bathroom just in case a stinkbug might appear. 

Ah, manageable monsters. 

So thank you. The results of your gift may look rather normal so far. That's as it should be. It's been such an abnormal year.