In primary school, there were home economics classes exclusively for girls. Weekly, for 4 hours, we learned knotting, hand embroidery, and cross-stitching. It was fun chatting and laughing during classes, but practicing at home felt like a torture. The first task was to knot a scarf, and with great “effort”, I managed to complete a quarter of it but the result looked terrible – lacking any even lines, mirroring my anger and restlessness. With the deadline approaching, expecting half the scarf to be finished I asked a talented classmate for help, who generously agreed without expecting anything in return. Her name was Geta – I will never forget her kindness. This surprised me as homework swaps were usually more transactional. Grateful for her help, I visited her with treats and toys (excluding the green tractor), observing as she knotted my scarf while I was telling stories. That was all I could contribute to the work. The next day, full of myself, I approached my classmates showcasing their scarves and displayed mine – which revealed a stark contrast between the part I knotted and the section handled by Geta. The girls exclaimed in unison that the beautifully knotted section couldn’t be mine. I stood firm, denying the accusations. Seeing that nobody believes me I admitted that my grandma helped me. Geta remained silent, smiling kindly. She asked me that if I got into trouble, I shouldn’t reveal that she had knotted my scarf. Instead, I should tell that my grandma had helped me. Also the teacher doubted me and she insisted on seeing the remainder of the scarf knotted by my own hand. I asked my grandma to finish it and told the teacher that I improved a lot…Infinite Love.
The ugly scarf
