I could click my mouse online and have a doll ordered in a second, walk into any store and find sweaters in my kids' sizes anywhere, quickly purchased, wrapped and set aside. So why spend the time, effort, and yes money on handmade?
Its hard to explain. I've got this bag of clean, pure, natural wool next to me, and every time I grab a little bit, I inhale: springtime, clover, sunshine, lambs. I cup a little ball and it warms in my hand, this miraculous natural fiber that takes on a life of its own, it seems. A bit of wool, a bit of fabric, a needle and thread, some yarn and suddenly there is a little person sitting there with me - not just a doll. Something I created especially for someone I care about - someone I envisioned and brought about. These dolls won't be finding their way to the donation pile - ever. Even in their imperfect state, they are special - made by Mom, different than the dolls lining the toy store shelves, identical and perfect.
After two nights on the couch, hunched over needle and thread, all done. Ready to be set under the Christmas tree, waiting for one special little girl to love.
I'm not sure why it matters to me, but it does. And maybe someday it will matter to them, too. But even if it never does, I don't think I'll ever regret spending these quiet moments working on things for the people I love the best.
