On a rare trip to Coolin, there was some kind of an event going on, so we stopped to see what it was. It was some sort of historical thing. I never found out what else was there, because my attention was immediately consumed by the very first thing I saw: an older woman making wool yarn with a spinning wheel. We've all seen spinning wheels in antique stores, as decor, but rarely ever in use. The thing was a whir of motion, in seeming contrast to the woman's calm demeanor and slowly moving hands. She held a handful of fluffy wool and streched out small portions of it, which turned magically into yarn and fed into the orifice of the machine, to be wrapped automatically onto a spool of yarn. It was hypnotic; I just stared and tried to make sense of what was going on, how the thing worked. She looked up at me with a kind smile,

"Go on, ask me questions! I can see the gears turning in your mind."

I didn't usually talk to outsiders, but she was so gentle and warm that I did. At the end of the conversation, my newfound friend had invited me to her cabin up in Nordman, to teach me how to spin wool, how to knit, how to play with fibers and art. She asked me to bring some of my art with me when I came.

Miriam Kopek and I became friends. She was my mentor, a positive, calm, accepting and supportive person in the life of a teen who was used to being ridiculed, shamed and abused. The hours in her home were deeply happy. She seemed to think I was clever and very creative, and she actually loaned me her own spinning wheel once she'd taught me how to use it, and gave me bags of wool, yarn, and fabric. She never thought less of me for the conditions we lived in, even though she sometimes drove to pick me up or to take me home. I felt as though I'd found a fairy godmother. She clucked approvingly over everything I made and said that I had talent. She loaned me her books. Her husband worked in some sort of business where he had access to trial sample of cold cereal, and they gave us a lot of samples. We of course, were absolutely delighted to have any cold cereal at all, and the trial samples were fun. They tended to be similar but different, and you never knew exactly what it would be until you opened up the plain box.

Spinning wool is a very calming, centering activity. Although it wasn't classified as work (in other words, I could only spin wool in my limited free time), it wasn't frowned upon, either, because it was productive and a good skill for a young woman to have in preparation for marriage, which was the only sort of future that was ever entertained for me. Spinning wool and going to Miriam Kopek's became a welcome refuge from the strange, otherworldly drama that was our family life.