It was freezing outside. Literally.
There was snow on the ground. The roads were iced over. It was 20 degrees outside.
Christine Nicolette-Gonzalez thinks she only got out her driveway and on the road safely because her car had four-wheel drive.
As she and her husband, English instructor Scott Gonzalez, were bundling up—getting ready to leave the house to visit her mother-in-law at the hospital—she passed the scarves she’d just finished knitting recently.
There were five of them.
Over the past year and a half, she’d given the scarves she’d knit to practically everybody—almost every friend and family member she had across the country.
And now, she didn’t know who to give these five to.
Right before she left the house, though, something, something compelled her to bring the scarves with her before she left.
Maybe somebody’s standing outside that we can give these scarves to, she said to Gonzalez.
A mile from the house, they saw a 20-year-old man shivering at the bus stop with nothing but a light windbreaker.
Nicolette-Gonzalez rolled down the window and beckoned him over.
She didn’t know what she was going to say to him.
All she knew was that this guy was freezing. She wanted him to feel warm.
But as she handed him one of the scarves, she said the phrase that has defined her life. The phrase that has given her a purpose—a mission—for the past decade.
I made this for you, she told the man.
For me? For me? the man asked.
Yes, for you, she said. Put it on, you’ll get warm!
He wrapped it around himself.
Gracias! Gracias! Thank you, he said.
On the way to the hospital and back, they found four more people out in the cold.
A middle-aged nurse walking to her car in the hospital parking lot.
A one-legged man standing in the snow waiting for the bus.
A woman on her way home from the grocery store.
A child walking with her mother and sister.
She gave each of them one of those five handmade scarves she’d brought with her on a whim.
And each time, she told them, I made this for you.
As she and her husband drove away—on those iced-over roads—she told him, now I know why I’m knitting.
When Nicolette-Gonzalez started making scarves, she didn’t know that she would start a “random acts of kindness” organization that has given out at least 8,000 hand-knit scarves—she’s lost count—all across the world.
She didn’t know that she would grow a community of knitters—knitters as young as 6 to knitters as old as 96—who all band together to make a stranger’s day just a little warmer.
She started knitting because her doctor told her to.
Her childhood had been tough. Her mother was mentally ill.
And in her 30s, that childhood trauma started to play out in her body.
She began having panic attacks. An anxiety disorder. Episodes that would come and go.
And in 2012, she had a particularly bad one and ended up in the hospital emergency room.
Her doctor told her that her anxiety had been causing blood pressure spikes and suggested she do something meditative to get her mind off things that were really bothering her. Something like knitting.
She wasn’t artsy at all. But she decided to give it a try.
Soon after, when she walked into Holley’s Yarn Shoppe to learn to knit, she ended up learning from Lower School art teacher Suzuko Davis, who was working at the shop at the time.
And they hit it off.
Davis felt their personalities matched—she was cheerful and jovial. Nicolette-Gonzalez was sweet, bubbly and bright.
And for Nicolette-Gonzalez, she felt that Davis helped her understand everything about the knitting techniques she was being taught. Davis made her feel like she could do it.
And the more Nicolette-Gonzalez knit—the more she got hooked on knitting.
Two knits. Two purls.
Two knits. Two purls.
There’s just something about that. Something about knitting that’s so mindful and relaxing to her.
So she knit away.
Two knits and two purls at a time.
That cold day Nicolette-Gonzalez gave out those five scarves in December—she called her best friend in Virginia.
This has been one of the best days of my life, Nicolette-Gonzalez said to her.
Nicolette-Gonzalez had only shared that story with her best friend—but word got around fast.
Soon her best friend’s mom knew. Who then went on and told the story to her friends and the owner of Holley’s Yarn Shoppe.
And soon everybody in the shop wanted to knit for others—and join in on the random acts of kindness.
The next time she walked into Holley’s Yarn Shoppe, the owner pulled her aside.
Christine, the owner said, I want you to know I heard about what you did on that cold day. We’ve got extra yarn, but the only way we could give it to you for free is if you make this a non-profit.
Nicolette-Gonzalez had never thought about that. All she thought about on that cold day with those scarves was to help those people to get warm.
“I really felt called by God,” she said. “I really felt called by God to do that.”
June 24. Nicolette-Gonzalez’s birthday. The birthday of the hero of her life—her father.
And it just so happened—that it was also the day her random acts of kindness organization, Spreading the Warmth, finally became an official non-profit.
She hosted her first Knit Night at her own home—a time to meet and come together to knit and put together bags of scarves for people to distribute.
Now there’s one every second Saturday of the month.
And those Knit Nights have grown—10, 20, now even 30 people show up each time.
And it’s not just Dallas that has Knit Nights. There’s a chapter of Spreading the Warmth in Corsicana. Even one in Ohio.
There’s a student group at Parish Episcopal. Hillcrest. Covenant. Seven student groups in total that make scarves for Spreading the Warmth.
There even used to be a knitting club here—at 10600 Preston Road—that made scarves for Spreading the Warmth.
And with each scarf that’s given out by Spreading the Warmth—they tell that person the same words Nicolette-Gonzalez said to that man shivering at the bus stop.
I made this for you.
Nicolette-Gonzalez always has scarves in her car now. And whether it’s Iceland or Argentina, every time she flies anywhere else, she brings scarves with her.
“Days when I give out scarves are my happiest,” Nicolette-Gonzalez said.
And those scarves she’s given out—they don’t just provide warmth. They provide hope.
Like one hotel receptionist she’d given a scarf to, he wrote a letter to Spreading the Warmth a year later all the way from Spain to express his gratitude.
I don’t know who it was who gave me this scarf a year ago, but it has in many ways been the only thing that’s given me hope this whole year, he wrote.
He wrote how that past year had been the hardest 12 months in his life. How he’d lost family members. How he’d struggled financially.
But when he looks up and around his bedroom, he sees the scarf hanging there. He sees that there’s good people out there.
Every cold day, he puts it on.
And it keeps him warm.
Another time, Davis, who was on the board for much of Spreading the Warmth’s being, had given her husband some scarves to give out.
And when she did, her husband noticed he’d kept passing the same homeless man over and over on his commute to work.
So, he pulled over, and gave the man his scarf.
Thanks, I really needed this, the man said.
But her husband kept thinking about that man. He kept seeing him every day.
So every day, on the way back from work, Davis’ husband would buy the man dinner while he picked up his own.
Nobody ever thinks of me, the man said. Thank you.
“It’s just a little, tiny thing you can do to make someone’s day,” Davis said. “Something you can do to make them not feel forgotten.”
When Nicolette-Gonzalez first started Spreading the Warmth, she thought it was all about the scarves. Giving them to people. Making someone’s day.
Soon after starting, she realized that the scarves were just 40 percent of it.
She never expected the other sixty.
Giving purpose to people who need a purpose.
Like Kim—a knitter who was a volunteer of the year.
For Kim, Spreading the Warmth changed her life.
She had deep depression. Was suicidal at one point. But being a part of Spreading the Warmth has given her something to use her gifts for.
“Whenever I give out one of her scarves, I’ll always say, ‘This scarf meant the world to this person who was hurting so much,’” Nicolette-Gonzalez said. “That helps her know that she matters and her life matters.”
Because of knitting and Spreading the Warmth, Nicolette-Gonzalez has managed her blood pressure. She feels healthier now.
And, like Kim, she’s found her purpose.
For her—other than being blessed with her family—she feels that Spreading the Warmth has been the biggest providence—a miracle—in her life.
“I feel very blessed,” Nicolette-Gonzalez said. “I have shed tears. Because ever since I was a child, I would just pray, ‘Please help me, God, to use my gifts to make the world a better place.’ I feel so honored that God has allowed me to use my gifts that were given to me.”
