The first handmade gift that really touched my heart was beautifully wrapped and sitting on an end table. As our visit concluded, the foster mom presented it to me.
“It’s a gift for your baby.”
“For me? For my baby?”
I cannot adequately describe the feelings I had as I removed the thick, luxurious, beautifully crocheted, pale green baby blanket from the box. The very first gift for my very first baby was from one of the foster moms. I wasn’t just the worker whose job it was to check in on her once a month. I was someone she cared enough about to make a blanket for my baby. I still have it, in a box in a closet, along with other precious memories from those baby days.
The best handmade gift I have ever received was the baby herself.
For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb. Psalm 139:13
When that perfect baby was eight she made me a Valentine’s Day gift. I remember her closed bedroom door, her order not to go in there, the rustling sounds of a busy project. She knew exactly what she was doing.
She was in there cutting a heart out of construction paper. A perfect heart. Then she took photos of herself and of the two of us and trimmed them into perfect hearts. She glued the trimmed photos into a montage on the construction paper and wove a ribbon around it.
It has been hanging from the lamp on my nightstand for almost 17 years.
I wish I could show you the precious front. Here’s the precious back:
Made by hand and by heart.