Camera Obscura

I'm in the hotel ballroom at Yarnover in Minneapolis.  It's at the end of the opening celebration dinner and Stephanie Pearl McPhee has just finished her talk, to the usual thunderous applause.  Knitters and teachers are getting up from tables and beginning to mingle, excited about the classes and market which begin in the morning.

From across the room somebody calls my name.  I turn to see a student of mine from last year, hastily excusing herself around people and furniture.  She's clearing the obstacles to cross the room, just to get to me.  I'm awash in the wave of joy that comes when this happens:  Somebody is excited that I'm here.  Has she brought a finished piece of knitting to show me, inspired by my teaching?  Maybe she's coming to tell me she'll be in my class again in the morning.  Perhaps she'll ask how it feels to be on a roster of teachers including the likes of Franklin Habit, Stephanie Pearl McPhee, and Steven West.  I grin and wait for her to clear the last banquet table between us.

I open my arms to hug her as she exclaims "I'm so glad to see you!"  Before I can respond, she adds "I need somebody to get a picture of me with the Yarn Harlot!"

I smile and take her outstretched camera.  Just one more service I provide.