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Writer's pictureKerri

The Gift That Keeps on Giving

That heart bursting feeling when you choose to generously give to others is such an incredible thing. Knowing you've changed their day for the better, no matter how big or small is amazing, right?


Well, recently I was on the receiving end to such kind hearted generosity.


Several weeks back I was contacted by a lady who had seen my latest article in the Murrindindi Guide. I thought (and was quietly hoping) she wanted to book a spot in my upcoming workshop. How wrong I was. This lovely lady, Margaret, was calling to put me in contact with a friend of hers - Malcolm, whom had a gigantic Countermarch Loom that was looking for a new home.


Now let me tell you about Malcolm - He is 80 years young, rides his bike everywhere, has an outrageously fun sense of humour, enjoys talking to strangers and lives alone since his beloved wife, Ukrainian born artist, Lassya, passed away a few years ago. This loom he was rehousing was hers.


Lassya was gifted a small loom by a Ukrainian neighbour many years ago, which inspired 30 years of creating the most beautiful pieces of textile art. Malcolm said "For Lassya, weavng was an activity of the spirit in a way no other creative activity quite was." He now wanted someone else to have that same inspiration of creating on her Countermarch Loom.


Whilst there, my Dad (who was there to help me move the loom) and I shared some tea and cake with Malcolm and enjoyed his stories. We must've spent an hour or two just chatting about his life, my work, his wife's work, my family, his family and anything in between.


My Dad was encouraging the quick witted comments back and forth when Malcolm knocked us both for six - he said it is Ukrainian custom to gift a hand painted Easter egg at this time of year. He held out a basket of the most beautiful and delicate eggs you have ever seen, and asked us both to choose one. By chance, Dad picked out one of Malcolms and I had picked out one that Lassya had painted - they were perfect.


We had packed all 30,000 pieces of the dismantled loom into the truck while I quietly wondered how on earth was I going to figure out getting it back together.


The truck was all loaded and several hugs later we were saying our goodbyes and heartfelt thank you's.


Then once again Malcolm gave me a gift that I will treasure always...He said "as soon as I read your article, I knew you were the right person to have Lassya's loom."




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