At the first sign of winter, Mary Searfoss has her knitting needles in hand, sewing little caps to cover the heads of young children in the community – a deed she's been doing the past 15 years. Asked why she does it, the wife of retired optometrist Dr. Robert Searfoss says, there's lots of reasons. But mainly, she does it for fun.
"It's relaxing, and I love seeing the children's faces when I take them to different places," the 87-year-old Searfoss told The Ledger. "I started out doing it for the Head Start program at the Presbyterian Church, which had about 24 kids."
Since then, she's also shared her caps with the public health department, area schools, the Early Childhood Center and young children attending the Vo-Tech child center. More recently, she added the Williams Center, that has some 40 or more students attending daily.
"When I go to deliver them, they call me the lady who knits caps for the children," Searfoss said, smiling.
Searfoss learned how to knit as a child, maybe 9 or 10, and has over time, perfected her craft. No two hats are the same and her color schemes vary. She's never really cared about intricate patterns, mainly because she hates to count stitches. She prefers the garter stitch when making her caps, because it's "forgiving and will stretch a lot ways."
The only thing she's a stickler about is the padding around the brim of the caps. "I often use two strands of yarn to make sure it's warm around their little ears," she said.
To encourage his wife's hobby, Dr. Searfoss has fixed up a sewing room just off their kitchen, filled with various types of knitting needles, and a wall of wire racks that hold her colorful skeins of yarn – many of which have been donated by people in the community. He placed her comfortable chair, sewing light and an array of knitting devices all at arms’ reach, to make her as comfortable as possible as she sews.
Sometimes when she feels guilty about the amount of television she watches, Searfoss said she justifies it it with her sewing.
"That way, I can say, I'm not completely wasting time on the TV," she said with a smile and a wink. One of the advantages of knitting for as long as she has, is she can do it without looking at her hands.
Searfoss finds her knitting to be very therapeutic. As a heart attack survivor, knitting keeps her mind busy, her body calm and her motor skills keen, as she creates her masterpieces. One morning a week, she has three little girls that she's teaching how to knit – which is very rewarding for Searfoss.
"It's exciting seeing how they pick it up so quickly. They've already started knitting scarfs and caps for their Christmas gifts," she said. Knitting is Searfoss' contribution to the next generation. It's something she loves to do.
The only thing that Searfoss ever asks of the recipients of her caps is "I make it explicit that they' can't sell them." To her, the cap is a gift from her heart, and there's no price that can be placed on that.
While the little ones may not be totally aware of the time that goes into to what Searfoss does, or even why she does it, their teachers, parents or daycare providers are very appreciative of her efforts.
Ann Ridgeway, a teacher at Hatton-McCredie, whose kindergarten classes for the past four years have received Searfoss's caps, had this to say about her dear friend when she wrote and told The Ledger about her story. On average, Searfoss makes at least 250 hats a year that she passes out, and Ridgeway's students are always at the top of her list.
"She does this out of the goodness of her heart and I think a story about her hard work would be wonderful." But Ridgeway knows that praise is not what Searfoss seeks. She does it because she cares. And even more important, she feels blessed that she can.
When Searfoss is not knitting, she and her husband – who are members of St. Matthews Episcopal Church – fill their days enjoying their community, and the time they spend together. Dr. Searfoss also has a hobby, building and collecting model airplanes. When company visits, the two have a very special way of sharing the spotlight that can only come from 65 years of marriage. The couple had three children – one of whom is deceased – four grandchildren, and three great-grandsons on the way, two of whom are twins.
"Life has been good," Searfoss said as she bid The Ledger staff goodbye.


