Sara treated the pregnancy with absolute seriousness.
One day she handed Alankrita a tiny yellow sweater.
"For Baby Pumpkin."
Alankrita stared.
"You knitted this?"
"Of course."
There was a tiny pumpkin stitched onto the front.
Alankrita cried immediately.
That became another ritual.
Sweaters.
Socks.
Caps.
Blankets.
Tiny scarves.
Tiny gloves.
Sara knitted while discussing literature and politics.
The collection grew slowly.
One piece at a time.
One act of love at a time.