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| The Multi-Coloured Socks |
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| By Kenneth L. Pierce |
My mother-in-law, Mrs Florence (Keir) Ballard, Mrs. B. to me, was always known for her great skill in knitting and crocheting. Often while sitting and talking with family she would be working on something. Usually it was something for one of her grandchildren or a friend’s child or even for the Christmas Mitt Tree at St Pius X Church.
One evening I was sitting in her living room talking with her about something when I noticed her knitting something with an “interesting” combination of colors – something for which she was noted. I commented to her that she must have a lot of interesting colors of left-over yarn kicking around. She responded that she did indeed have bits and pieces of yarn stashed all over the house from previous knitting projects. I said something to the effect that, “would it be interesting to have something made out of all the ends of yarn that she had used over the years?”
I don’t recall her response to my comment and our conversation drifted to some other topic. However, the following Christmas, under the tree from Santa, were socks for everyone. But I received a special pair of perfectly matched, multi-coloured, handmade socks. Of course they fit perfectly. I stared in awe of what Mrs. B. had created. She explained that she had selected a bunch of ends of yarn that she had used for making stuff for her grandchildren. Then she cut each end in half and then with a grey base sock she added the colour ends so they would match perfectly up the front and around the ankle of each sock. And they did. She pointed out that the toughest part was sewing in all the ends of the coloured yarn. When I looked closely at each sock I noticed yarn from baby sets, mitts and sweaters that Michele, Stephanie and Leanna had worn as infants, toddlers and adolescents. It was like a visual history of her creativity and gifting to my children. I was really touched by her forethought, caring and thoughtfulness. Of course this was so typical of Mrs. B. I wore those socks for years and received numerous comments on them from family, friends and colleagues.
But the story doesn’t end there. In fact this was just the beginning. Over the course of the next several years I received at least seven more pairs of these wonderful, multi-coloured. Usually it occurred at Christmas, but sometimes just because she had completed another pair and wanted to give them to me. I wore them constantly all winter long. They were so warm and comfortable. Mrs. B. also repeatedly repaired the ones that developed holes from my continual usage.
These socks became a continual source for discussion and story. I recall one day in particular walking into the faculty lounge at Holland College to have coffee with a circle of my colleagues. As I approached the seating area I remember one saying loudly to the others, “Let’s see what colors his socks are today!”
When my Mom and Dad passed on I bought a painting of a small rural farm to remind me of them. When Mrs. B. passed on I decided the best was to remind me of her was to do something with her creative gifts to me. So I collected the first five pairs of socks, some with holes in them and took them to a framing store. I asked the gentleman at the shop if he would be interested in framing them in some fashion to honour their creator. I also requested a small plaque which would read “Created by Mrs. B. (Florence Ballard)”. Finally, I asked him to use his own creativity in deciding how to arrange them.
About a month later, after he called me, I returned to the shop. There before me was a work of art. It was a shadow box of 18 x 36 inches. In the background was a green field with a bright sun and clouds drifting by. In the foreground was a clothesline on which hung one of each of the socks held by an old fashioned clothes pin. In the lower right corner was the requested gold plaque with the appropriate inscription. To this day it hangs in a prominent place in our family room.
I recall Mrs. B. saying one time that she wished she had gone farther in school but that circumstances prevented it. I think that she was still able to demonstrate her genius in other ways that were even more valuable. During the course of my children’s youth all three, at one time or another, learned to knit and crochet. And even as an adult, Stephanie continues to make quilts from scratch. So, I see Mrs. B. caring and influence everywhere I look.
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