Knitting: Good or Evil
My mom could make the most beautiful items of clothing with just two needles and a skein of yarn. Impressed, I asked her to teach me how to knit, and I learned to add a couple of sweaters plus other garments to my own wardrobe.
Moving to Indiana in 1951, my husband became the pastor for a small church south of New Castle. Our children began to come and knitting became one activity that I could use to relax and unwind. I put together baby garments for the kids, and my husband liked knit socks, especially during the winter months. So if I could find a spare moment, I would pick up my knitting.
Back then, those farm families had a custom of often inviting the minister and his family for Sunday dinner after morning worship. So in response to an invitation one Sunday on an autumn day, we bundled up our kids and went to the Barlow home for a meal following worship.
After we arrived, I asked if I could help with the preparations, but Mrs. Barlow told me all was under control. “Please make yourself at home,” she said. “I’ll call when dinner is ready.” So I went to the front room and pulled out my knitting.
Mrs. Barlow‘s aged mother-in-law was seated in the room also. When she saw me begin to knit, she immediately scowled at me and said, “Don’t you know it’s a sin to knit on Sunday.”
I was stunned and astonished. Before I could reply, she continued, “If you knit or sew on Sunday, you will have to take every stitch out with your nose when you get to heaven.”
About that time, my husband walked into the room and said, “Where did you ever hear that, Mattie? It sounds like an old wives’ tale to me. Kay knits to relax. She isn’t sinning. Why would you say that?”
Mattie Barlow took a deep breath and said, “That’s what my mother taught me.” Then she went on to explain that when she was young, her older brother was in the service during WW I. Her mother made her knit socks to send to him because he was in the foxholes in France where it was cold and wet. So she had to knit every day, Monday through Saturday, but her mother allowed her to put her knitting down on Sunday because knitting was work. – and one does not work on Sunday. Mattie Barlow was always delighted when Sunday came.
I learned a good lesson that Sunday afternoon. What can be a pleasure for someone can be a chore for someone else because of what they have been taught when they were young. I found knitting a pleasure because my mom encouraged me to do it; Mattie Barlow hated to knit, considered it a chore because her mom forced her to do it. Our bringing up had determined our outlooks. Obviously, Mattie Barlow and I had come from entirely different backgrounds. There is an old American Indiana proverb I have tried to live by since that afternoon. “Never criticize a man until you have walked a mile in his moccasins.”