Tonight I saw an elderly woman to provide a little care. She had the kindest eyes and smile, but could no longer converse. Just a glimmer of her remaining humanity sparkled briefly in her eyes. It took me 10 minutes to fix her equipment problem. Not much time at all. My patient never said a word while I was working on her, and as I redressed her, she shivered. I covered her with a blanket, made by her own hand in the most beautiful lace pattern. As I remarked on her pretty stitch and color work, my patient came alive and talked for 20 minutes about how she knit that blanket. With cancer stealing her mind, she couldn't talk about anything else, but that's OK. In spite of the cancer, we found our common denominator and had a long chat about sticks and string.