The occasion wasn’t about knitting – except indirectly. It was a Christmas fair at Hampden Historical Society’s Kinsley House where knitted hats, mittens and scarves were for sale, along with many other handcrafted items. I was there as a vendor – as an author, not as a knitter – which gave me ample time to observe and listen, to chat and learn.

I spotted several scarves hand knit in eyelash yarn draped stylishly around the necks of women clad in jeans and sensible shoes – the shaggy moss green one had something sparkly knit into it. Beads or sequins, I couldn’t tell. I liked the mystery of not knowing what made it sparkle and the way the scarf threw off sparks of light as its wearer moved.

Another scarf lay around its owner’s neck like a soft black cloud, which blended into her black hair and framed her face in a becoming way. She was a “woman of a certain age,” a woman who knew what looked good on her and how to wear it. She trailed behind her that certain air of wisdom and sophistication one expects of a woman wearing such a scarf.

Much of the talk between those shopping at the fair and those of us who were vendors was about knitting scarves to give as holiday gifts to sisters, mothers, relatives and dear friends – scarves knit on No. 15 needles in Fun Fur in bold colors. Some of the women talking about knitting were new to the craft and seemed astounded by the fact they had learned to knit at all – women who were already successful at managing businesses, pleading court cases or raising children while holding down full-time jobs.

They spoke of making room for knitting in their overloaded lives, almost as if they had shifted a few pieces of heavy furniture around to make room for something new, cherished and valuable. Knitting, it seemed, had cast loops around their hearts and a new fabric of self was coming into being – one they loved to touch.

Knee-high among the press of people who strolled through the room was a little girl with long dark hair and blue eyes. She wore that calm, open, happy expression of a child who sees her reflection in her mother’s eyes and always finds it good. Twined around her neck was a blue scarf knit of a yarn that looked a like songbird feathers.

“That’s a very pretty scarf you have on,” I said. “Did you knit it?”

The child smiled with her entire body and shook her head no very slowly in an “old soul” sort of way, as if she had absorbed all the wisdom of the universe at the very moment of her birth.

“But I want to learn to knit,” she said with the eagerness and enthusiasm common to happy children.

“May I ask how old you are?” I asked.

The little girl looked at her hand, thought a minute, and held up four fingers. “This many,” she said.

Ah, I thought, now I understand. Here before me is a knitter of the future – literally and figuratively. I felt privileged to be in her presence and experienced vicariously her feeling of wonder at the thought of learning something new. I could be wrong, but I bet there’s a ball of Fun Fur and a pair of knitting needles on that little girl’s Christmas list. There is no doubt in my mind that whatever she chooses to knit, it will imbue the world with something sparkly, bold, fluffy and fine.

Snippets

. Visit warmupamerica.org to learn how to put your knitting needles to work for a good cause. Volunteers knit 7-inch by 9-inch rectangles that will be made into afghans for residents of shelters for battered women, homeless centers and nursing homes across the United States. If you can’t knit, a gift of $10 will pay the postage to mail 14 afghans to a shelter or charity.

. Caps for Kids, sponsored by the Craft Yarn Council, provides warm hats for needy children. To obtain more information, visit www.CraftYarnCouncil.com/caps.

Ardeana Hamlin welcomes suggestions. Call 990-8153, or e-mail ahamlin@bangordailynews.net.