First In
Last Out

The Maltese Cross carries a history written in fire.

It traces back to the Crusades, to the Knights of St. John, later known as the Knights of Malta, who stood against flames as much as they did against enemies. When incendiary weapons set the world alight around them, they did not retreat. They ran toward the burning, pulling their brothers from it. In those moments, they became something more than soldiers. They became the first to answer the call of fire.

Over time, the symbol endured.

Eight points. Eight quiet reminders of what it means to stand in harm’s way: honor, bravery, loyalty, sacrifice.

Not as decoration, but as expectation. A standard worn, not spoken.

For those who wear it now, the Maltese Cross is not just tradition. It is a promise. A mark of protection, yes, but also a burden willingly carried.

“First In, Last Out.”

Not a slogan. A truth.

They go where others are told to flee. They remain when everything else is falling apart. They do not measure the cost before stepping forward.

I made this afghan twice.

One for a firefighter I know, still standing, still answering the call.

And one for someone who no longer can.

Both are carried in every stitch.

The afghan itself was worked corner to corner, black and red set against a field of white, the traditional colors carried through each block.

C2C, by nature, leaves space between its stitches. Small gaps. Openings.

I chose not to leave them.

As each block was formed, I anchored it, drawing my hook through the previous stitches, pulling them together, closing what would have been left open. It created a denser fabric. Stronger. More unified. Each section held to the next, not just by structure, but by intention.

Nothing left loose. Nothing left to shift.