This morning on my way to the car, I noticed something unusual on Third Street. An old maple tree had been… decorated. Not with ornaments, but with winter gear. Hats and scarves hung neatly from clothespins, each one sealed in a ziplock bag, with a handwritten note that read: “Free hats & scarves – Feel free to take one! Please leave clothespins!!”
I stood there for a good five minutes just staring. The yellow one caught my eye first—a chunky knit that looked like it took forever to make. Then I noticed a soft pink scarf, the most perfect shade I’ve ever seen, and a blue hat that would fit my teenage son perfectly.
But what really struck me was the care behind it all. This wasn’t just a pile of old clothes dropped off in a bag. Every single item had been wrapped carefully, protected from the weather, hung with care. Someone had spent hours making these pieces, then more time packaging them, and finally walked around in the cold hanging them up for strangers.
My neighbor Betty came by with her dog and stopped when she saw me looking. “Been there since yesterday,” she said. “I saw the woman who put them up. Older lady, maybe in her seventies. She had a whole wagon full.” We both just stood there, almost like we were admiring an art display.
I’ve been knitting for about three years now—started when my mom was sick and I needed something to keep my hands busy during those long hospital visits. I got decent at it too. Even opened a little shop on Tedooo where I sell baby blankets and mittens. Nothing fancy, but people seem to like them.
Seeing that tree made me think about all the yarn I’ve got stacked up in my craft room, waiting to be used.
I didn’t take anything—I figured someone else probably needs those hats and scarves more than I do. But I snapped a picture because… it reminded me that there are still people out there who quietly choose kindness. No big announcement, no praise needed. Just handmade warmth, freely given.
Think I’ll go home and start knitting some hats of my own. Maybe I’ll find my own tree.