What cause? Well, pretty much any cause. I do not know what it is in my nature that makes me react to any tragedy in the world by picking up my hook and some yarn and making something for someone somewhere, but I do know that I am far from alone in my reaction.
One thing that makes crochet such a natural fit for charitable giving is the speed with which you can make something useful. I made a chemo cap the other night for a local hospital that worked up so quickly it drew a few startled looks from the ladies at my Sit and Stitch night. “Didn’t you just start that?” one of the other members asked. Yup, started it, screwed it up, ripped some out, finished the cap, and all in about an hour and a half.
Actually, if I may digress as I sometimes do into my half-cocked ideas about the history of crochet, there seems to have been a relationship between crochet and charitable giving practically since its inception.
I found a book printed in 1898 that taught the ladies how to run a charity bazaar or “fancy fair” to raise money for others.
The idea of organizing a bazaar in the occasion of subscribing to any charitable institution has become a great feature of the present age. It affords opportunities to many idle people of pleasantly exerting themselves, discovers and brings forward obscure talents, promotes intercourse and amusement, and frequently ensures most advantageous results.
In other words, crocheting for a cause gave otherwise idle hands purpose and meaning, and the money raised for a good cause went to, well, a good cause. The author went on to lament the preponderance of antimacassars, pincushions, and tennis aprons (whatever those are) and went on to propose almost four hundred pages of other items that could be crocheted or knitted or sewn or painted so they could be sold. There were hints on crocheted items from bookmarks to petticoats to baskets to rugs—anything for a buck, so long as that buck was going to the needy.
The potato famine in Ireland brought about a different sort of charitable endeavor. Women were encouraged not to crochet items for others, but to buy crocheted items made by women who would otherwise have little or no income of their own. The maker and the purchaser were joined across thousands of miles by the slenderest of threads—but connected nonetheless.
Contemporary crocheters make thousands of items for all sorts of charities—blankets for Project Linus and for pet shelters, warm hats and scarves for those who need them, clothing for hard-to-fit premature infants, soft hats for those who lose their hair due to the ravages of cancer and its treatment. You can make any sort of crocheted item that appeals to you and find someone, somewhere, who needs it—you get the pleasure of your craft and of doing for others, and the recipient knows not only the warmth of the item but the warm feelings it contains. In this transaction the human element is as important as the fiber one—the maker has given from the heart as well as from the wallet, and the receiver knows that someone cares enough to make something for them with their own two hands.
Comfort, both physical and spiritual, is the name of the game for items crocheted for charity. Whether they are in the same room or on opposite sides of the country or planet, sometimes a group of people tied together by a crochet group online or in real life, get together to provide comfort to someone who has suffered a loss by making an afghan as a group project. Crochet is the perfect craft for a joint effort, because it is so much easier for each crocheter to make a square and send it to a central location for assembly than to pass a piece of knitting around and have everyone work a few rows. Like participants in the quilting bees of the past, we can come together and make the work of keeping people warm go more quickly. We take pleasure not just in knowing that our work will be appreciated, although that is a lovely feeling, but in the fact that we took care of business together. We draw strength and companionship from one another, and pour it into our work, until that comfortghan is positively vibrating with fond feelings. This finished project warms people from within and without, everyone who touches it, no matter what their role.
I once read a post on an online bulletin board in which a poster said that charity crochet was a stupid idea—a way for crocheters to pass off shoddy, second-rate goods and to pretend to themselves that they were doing good, when they should just write a check instead if they felt strongly about a cause. And that post still bothers me a few years later.
Obviously, the crocheter gets something positive out of making something for others, be it pride in stash reduction, learning a new technique, or making something fun to make that she might otherwise not have a use for. We all love to crochet, and sometimes it’s cool to have a socially acceptable reason to do it all the time. “Yes,” you can say to the passer-by with the raised eyebrow, “I do crochet a lot, but look at all the preemie caps I made for the hospital!” Charity crochet can give us validation that we may not get otherwise, and that even the most militant of us sometimes need.
Just as obviously, there are times when a check is a better donation than an afghan. Although I wanted to make blankets for Hurricane Katrina victims, I knew that finding shelter and food was a more pressing need for most of those affected, so I sent a check first and made granny squares later.
But my crocheted items send a message that cold hard cash does not. They tell the recipients that someone cares about them. They provide warmth, both physical and emotional, because as everyone from Mr. Scrooge on down will tell you, money isn’t everything. A trauma victim needs services, but he or she also needs, on a visceral level, personal connection.
Cash cannot replace love, but crochet is a pretty good substitute.