As a little girl one of my favorite things to do was to make potholders on a little loom. I loved pulling the small loops of many colors tightly across, and the challenge to get some of them to stay in that place of tension. The beauty was created as I wove other loops over, under, and across. The loose threads and tense threads woven together created an item that had meaning and purpose.

As an adult, my grandmother fell down the stairs and as a result had brain damage. She was unable to continue with the activities she loved and was very bored. I remembered the little loom and gave her one. She made hundreds of potholders over the course of the next few years. Her little crooked fingers could barely stretch those loops across, but she stayed with the difficulty knowing that beauty would come in her little creation, and it…