I learned something yesterday at the hospital.
I saw a little boy with a very worn and washed out handmade light blue afghan.
It was obvious he cherished the afghan as he held it close to his chest.
In a matter of minutes the staff said they were ready-
and there went the boy holding his afghan and holding his dad's hand going beyond the closing doors and then out of sight.
Later I thought, "Whoever made that afghan for him did not know at the time how much comfort it would bring him in the such a real and special way today".
I, also, learned that a worn afghan has something that nothing else brand new can give--
closeness and comfort.
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