"She's out in the car,"

my visitor tells me. He holds out the bag of carefully packed knitted items.
I take it from him as he adds, "She's not feeling too good today."
"I'll come out and just say a quick hello then," I tell him.
"That would be great Cat, thanks."
I do not know the woman in the car that well. She has been ill for a long time now. Her husband does most of the housework and the cooking. They get two hours of council help each week. Their daughter comes in to help her get up in the morning and go to bed at night.
There is not a great deal June can do but she can knit.
I first met her in our shopping centre several years ago. She was in her electric wheelchair and, unable to reach something, she asked me to do it for her. I inquired about the exquisite lace garment she was wearing. Yes, she had made it herself.
As is the way of such things we came to know one another in a superficial sort of way. We talked about the weather and about knitting. She mentioned she had run out of people to knit for and, having found out about my interests from others we both know, she offered to make some things for other people in need. I accepted and saw her inwardly glow.
Two of the items in the bag are going into this year's "Royal Show". The other four are for me to pass on to someone else to give to a young couple who have just lost everything they own through no fault of their own. The young mother is expecting twins in less than a month.
I go out to the car and June's face lights up.
"Those baby things can be thrown in the washing machine," she tells me. I know they can. She is well aware of the need for machine washable baby items. It is also typical of her thoughtfulness.
I ask what she is going to make next.
"Oh I have started that. I hoped you would come out. Look at this. Isn't it wonderful? I hope I can do it well enough."
She shows me an immensely complex and colourful pattern for a man's pullover. I know her husband would never wear anything like that so it must be going to someone else.
"It is just the sort of thing Solomon will like," June tells me.
Oh yes, I know Solomon. He is the young African refugee who lives across the street from them. He loves brilliantly patterned shirts and traditional tops. I have no doubt that the pullover will be a huge success as well. The patterns in the garment are traditional patterns from his part of Africa. They mean good things.
June is a good woman. Knitting gives her a purpose in life and a sense of worth.
I wave them off and go inside again. I put her show entries next to the others I am taking with me on Thursday. I do not look, just as I have not looked at the other things I have been given. I will be asked what I think when the judging is being done and I do not want to know who has put in what.
What I do hope is that June will win at least one prize.