To be completely honest I thought it was the ugliest yarn I'd ever seen, and I find nearly all yarn enjoyable. It was given to me by a sweet 94 year old woman who still lives on her own and goes to the YMCA three times a week to swim and socialize. I gave the purposeless yarn a purpose and the final product is riddled with mistakes. Mistakes I could've easily fixed. Mistakes that were chosen to remain to serve as a reminder that purpose comes from the most unexpected places, and that mistakes are not only inevitable, but that they offer a certain quality of character that would otherwise not exist. After twisting it to it's imperfect perfection, I sent it somewhere, where it is loved. It seems there is salvation, after all.