Warm Fuzzies

Warm Fuzzies

I had a teacher in 8th grade, Mr. Amdahl, who would often talk about Warm Fuzzies. It was his way of saying  Say something nice. Something that gives you warm fuzzies. It could be something as simple as “I like your outfit” or “Good job” or more meaningful (but let’s be real, 8th graders play it close to the chest and rarely say something beyond those two).
Take my hobby, knitting (and sometimes crocheting) and pair it up with the typical Minnesota winter (COLD folks. It was -20 here last week) and I decided  I can do Warm Fuzzies!  Something tangible that will make someone warm both inside and out. And my #warmfuzzies started. Simple enough, I had a yarn stash with some super-bulky yarn that I had no projects for and a free hat pattern. With that, my first posts were to Facebook, offering them as a way to inspire others to perform their own random act of kindness. I shipped out some, dropped off others, hand delivered some more, and left a few throughout the St. Cloud area with a single halo clementine and a note. Simply enough, it read:

I am not lost. If you need me, please take me. You Are Loved.

Simple. Nameless. Just a way I could give something that came from my heart. With each stitch, I imagined love going into those hats. I posted on instagram. I ran out of yarn. And money to keep it going. I made a fundraiser version with some woolly scraps I had left and it sold. That scrap hat made 5 more hats, which I dropped off on benches randomly. Again with the same note.

I am not lost. If you need me, please take me. You Are. Loved.

They’re not for fame. Not for money. They are to give hope to those who may have momentarily lost their hope. My husband asked me why I didn’t just drop them all off at Place of Hope, our local homeless shelter. I told him Because not just the homeless need them. Pride may keep people from reaching out for help. I just want to put love in their day and spark that warmth from deep within. A college student broke off their ass might need a hat. A single mom might need one, or her child, and might not know where to turn. I don’t want hope to come with the conditions of needing to ask. I just want it to appear for them, and if I can do that, I can be more at ease.

One hat. One and a half hours. That could make all the difference in the world to someone. It’s not much. In fact, it’s barely a speck in the grand scheme of things, but it’s something I have, something I can directly do to instill a bit of love into someones’ day, and that is pretty damn awesome.

You. Are. Loved.
You. Are. Loved.


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