A lady named Welcome.

Today, my mom and I went to visit a friend.

Her name is Welcome Mae. 

She ignited my passion for knitting.

She taught Mom how to make scrubbies 

(which I'm not entirely sure that's a good thing, considering Mom wants to make wedding veils out of them. *shudders*)

She's just an amazing lady.   

She always says the best things like, 

"You know, no matter what I do, I'm Welcome where ever I go."

or when she tells her little dog, Eddie, to get up in her lap and then quickly adds "or don't" to the end.

"That's so he minds me either way." she says with a laugh

But today, Welcome didn't have any funny sayings.

She hardly said anything at all.

Her life reminds me of an afghan knitted from scrap yarn.  

(That may sound degrading but keep reading) 

There are some really ugly spots. 

Some spots that are like rope. Scratchy and maybe a little course.

Some patches are fluffy and bright and others are flat and dark.

But you know what makes it beautiful? 

Everything. 

It has different textures and hundreds of stories that go behind each tiny thread.

The dark patches only add contrast to the light, making them even more bright and beautiful.

Welcome's blanket is almost finished. 

It really sunk in for me today.

She's dying. 

But you know what's great?

She lived and I got to meet her.

Don't let this post depress you, because that's not what I wanted. 

I just wanted to give you a tiny, little glimpse of an amazing lady named Welcome. 

Go meet someone amazing.

Psalm 116:15

This is the end of the second post.