Knitting in Public

One day I knitted in a café while waiting for some friends. An older black gentleman came up and asked if it was okay to share my table. I said yes, although I thought it odd that he wanted to share when there were plenty of free tables. After a while I looked up from my knitting to notice that he was staring at my hands. I smiled. He said something like, “I hope I’m not making you uncomfortable. My mother and aunts used to knit around the kitchen table at night when I was a boy. Seeing you knitting at this table brings back such memories…” I said that I didn’t mind and he got lost in a blissful reverie. Some minutes later he got up and said, “I’ll let you be now. Thank you for letting me sit with you. Keep up the good work.”