Once upon a time

This is a little story about a sweater.
Part of me once lived in Denmark, being blue and stripy and knit.


Then one day a Dutch lady came into my store and bought me. She was very pleased with me, because our family is very, very small (I myself only know of two cousins who are of the stripy sweater family) and it appeared that this woman loves our breed very much.
At her home in Holland, I met two other fabrics.



Although they were blue, like me, I had a bit of a hard time getting used to them because they are real softies (you know … the whiny types).
And once we were paired it appeared that one of them died. How terrible!
Here you can see the dead hood.



So my lady buried the hood and attached a firm ribbon. That really felt much better.
I integrated my soft part, becoming more whole as a person.
Still, I felt that there was a small part of me missing. Was it a monster?
She tried it on, and loved the droopy eyes, but not the look of the thing.



So she chased it away, draw some sketches of other monsters,



but nothing worked.
And than I was laid down to rest, while my lady thought about me and waited for inspiration.
This afternoon, she finally fetched me up. A little owl flew into me and a piece of red cotton spiced me up.



Now I can serve that lovely little boy I’ve seen him running around the house. He will make me come truly alive.