nizizi的部落格

Angels don't focus on everyday matters. Food, shelter, transportation? None of these earthbound necessities are of their concern.

Ellie Handsel of Atlanta is such as an supernatural being. She doesn't own a earth or car, but recurrently spends what infinitesimal economics she has on soft, velvety line.

Yarn? Yes. The cotton is for the attractive but cuddlesome afghans Elle and 568 remaining volunteers needlecraft for the terminally ill.

To date, Ellie and her angels have created over and done with 10,000 lap robes. "It's a labor of love," she says. In fact, Ellie spends all of her waking (and whichever of her dormant) work time crocheting afghans, coordinating the pains of volunteers, and commercial enterprise lap blankets to opposite cities and states.

It is not unusual, for instance, for her to acquire requests from as far away as California. In Atlanta, the needlecraft artist (who was nicknamed "Smoking Needle" because she crochets at least one lap robe a day) and her circle of angel-volunteers utter personal, handwritten record on next to the lap robes.

As a result, patients buzz that they can awareness the be keen on that is crocheted into all fastening. "It's not of late the warmth," says a now healed heart diligent. "Wrapping up in one of Ellie's lap robes gives you just about an airy outlook of mortal fair-haired."

The theory for Ellie's Angels began to be built in December of 1989 once she visited Jerusalem House, an AIDS housing in Atlanta. The seclusion and inaccessibility she saw at hand denaturised her being. When she noticed how fresh a few of the patients' keeping and feet were, she contracted to needlework lap blankets for them in their favourite flag. "It was a Christmas bequest to myself," she says.

From that day on, Ellie's untested perception mushroomed into a task in which others craved to take part. Local promotional material force in voluntary knitters and donations of narration.

An oecumenic effort, volunteers come up from variable friendly and devout orientations. To have a blanket, however, no devout tie-up is mandatory. Patients in hospices, hospitals, and at quarters can all help.

All this makes Ellie elated. Her seriousness to this extend beyond and its broadening in the United States is maybe unequalled. At no case has her concern been with herself. Money? Food? "I haven't malnourished yet," she says.

But she has gone from people in an upscale Dunwoody neck of the woods to living in a teeny housing beside overmuch of her paltry nest egg exhausted.

What fans the flaming of specified passion? The response, of course, from patients. For some, it's the hug they will ne'er receive, the admire no one of all time gave.

For others it's a comforting, relaxing touch, more same a cup of hot tan on a cold, dark, private wintertime night, maybe the darkest, loneliest nighttime they have of all time prearranged.

But once Ellie tells a writer that umteen patients have requested to be dug in near their afghans, body process crawl her persuasion. She makes a prickle of self emotionally available, specially in the region of holidays. When she can't call round in person, she gives patients a telephone.

"It may not appear look-alike much," says Ellie, referring to the emotion crocheted into all lap garment. "Others do much. It's not investments. It's not medicine. But it's what I can do."