Lucienne Boisvert sat by the fireplace with her crochet hook, a skein of purple yarn, and a half-completed scarf. As she wove the hook in and out of holes at the end of the scarf and wrapped the yarn accordingly, the 97-year-old began to explain her process.

“This scarf is 12 stitches across, so I just count with my fingers,” Boisvert said.

Boisvert, who has been blind for the past 15 years, crochets daily. In that time, she has donated over 2,000 scarves and $4,000 to homeless shelters and low-income families thanks to a partnership with the Meredith Village Savings Bank, which distributes the scarves and matches each scarf with a $2 donation that then goes to a charitable organization.

“If I can make someone happy, then I’m happy,” she said.

She lost sight in her left eye due to glaucoma when she was in her 30s. Then, one day at age 82, Boisvert woke up and couldn’t see at all. Without her eyesight, she could no longer do crossword puzzles, which had previously been her favorite pastime. Unable to participate in the world as she once had, Boisvert fell into a depression.

“I was really angry. I sat there doing nothing for six months,” she said.

Searching for a way to help his mom, her son, Michael, suggested she try crocheting. He even found an instructor who would come teach her. She initially resisted the idea but decided to give it a try.

“I had never crocheted before,” said Boisvert, who grew up in Quebec before moving to Manchester. “My mom used to knit hats and scarves and mittens, but it was never something I did.”

She learned to make scarves and blankets and became so adept at the process that she could crochet a scarf in two days. Now, with arthritis setting into her fingers, it takes her three or four days. She lives at Peabody Place in Franklin and has become known for her crochet creations.

“She’s made a ton of them,” said her boyfriend, Louis Bellaud. “I think everybody here has a scarf.”

Bellaud and Boisvert met at the end of the summer when he struck up a conversation while she was sitting by the fireplace crocheting. They bonded over their upbringings and found similarities in their common first language of French. He now has two scarves made by Boisvert, who gives her creations to people as a sign of affection.

“They always come out perfect,” Michael Boisvert said of his mother’s scarves. “I’ve seen her take apart entire halves of scarves. She can feel the width and the stiches, so she knows if it’s not correct. She’ll take it apart and do it again.”

This year, she made 40 scarves for charity. Before her arthritis hit, she used to make 150 scarves for donation each year.

“They’re blown away when I bring them to the bank,” Michael Boisvert said. “They are waiting on me to come in with the scarfs every year.”

As he packed two large boxes full of the scarves to be donated, he expressed pride at his mother’s work and the way she found meaning in her life after the loss of her eyesight.

“Now I get used to it. Sometimes I forget I’m blind,” Boisvert said with a laugh.

She often participates in a knitting/crocheting group that meets on Tuesday afternoons at Peabody Place. Boisvert wants others to feel empowered to try something new even if it feels intimidating. Her resolution for 2025 is to branch out from scarves and learn to crochet hats.

“If I can learn blind to crochet, if I did it, then anyone can do it,” she said. “They should do it, because it could make someone happy.”

Rachel Wachman can be reached at rwachman@cmonitor.com