Imperfection

Once upon a time in the lands near the midnight sun, there lived an old woman who thought to knit a cardigan for her little granddaughter to wear during the months of darkness when the winter came cold and damp.

For many weeks she laboured of an evening, knitting, purling and cabling with arthritic fingers to create just the most wonderful woolly for her small 5 year old granddaughter.

At last with a sigh of satisfaction the final stitch was cast off and the old woman began assembling and sewing together all the pieces, the back, the sides, the sleeves and the tiny pockets.
It was time consuming , but the old woman liked perfection and took her time with much pinning and careful needlework.

With everything finished and the pretty buttons sewn on, she was at last able to spread the finished garment out to admire her handiwork and think how warm it would keep her little Nina, for that was the child's name.

As she swept her eyes over the cardigan she realised with mounting horror that there was a mistake of such huge magnitude in the final result, that she began to tremble and wonder how she could not have noticed the error before the garment was completed.

She went to the old man and asked him if he noticed anything amiss and after some deliberation he said yes.
He was a kind old man and hastened to soothe her by telling her that no one would notice, but she knew that Nina would notice and moreover the child's mother, the old lady's daughter who had inherited the gimlet eyes of perfection would notice, with the result that it might never be worn, but be consigned to the altar of the Dennistoun moths.

The fact that the mistake had made the cardigan totally unique and a joy for Allah to behold with its imperfection, would be for nought.

The old lady is devastated, blaming herself for stupidity, but cannot undo what is done and will take it to her little granddaughter tomorrow with much trepidation.

And the moral of this tale is: always pay great heed to instructions.