“Grandma, please tell us a story”, the four children cried together in unison. It was a dreary, winter afternoon, too cold to play outside. Winter days at Grandma’s house were the best times for the children. A fire usually roared in the fireplace, Grandma sometimes baked cookies for the children.
In past visits, she let them explore the attic and cellar of the old Victorian house. What treasures the children found stashed away in trunks and boxes: old clothes, hats, jewelry, photos, books, games, toys, dolls, buttons and fabrics. It was always an adventure. It seemed that Grandma saved everything under the sun. This day, however the children did not feel like exploring, they just wanted to sit, enjoy the fire and hear a wonderful story from Grandma.
“Alright, children, I will tell you a story,” she said. “ Let’s all sit down here by the fireplace and get cozy.” Grandma sat down on the sofa, the four children gathered around her, the youngest seated in Grandma’s lap. Grandma picked up the well-used quilt from the back of the sofa and spread it over the children.
“What story shall I tell you today?” she asked her grandchildren. Before the others could answer, the youngest child asked, “Why do you always use this quilt? Why isn’t it complete filled with fabric patches?” Grandma paused a moment and then replied, “I will answer both your questions and tell you a story at the same time. Are your ready?” The four children eagerly shouted, ‘Yes’.
“When I was a young girl, I loved to sew and make things. I would sew clothes for my dolls, little quilts for the doll beds. It was fun. As I grew older, I began to sew clothes for my family and myself. I loved the feel of different fabrics and marveled at the array of colors.
I began to save fabric, any type or color I could get my hands on. I wanted to make a quilt some day. Maybe I could win a blue ribbon at the county fair in quilt making. This dream never happened when I was in my teens. I had too many other things to worry about, like high school and boys. But I still collected fabrics to make my quilt some day. My pile of fabrics grew bigger.
“I graduated from high school, left home and went away to college. My poor mother, she had to store this big pile of fabrics. I would not part with any of the fabrics, for I knew that someday I would make a quilt. But not at this time of my life, I was too busy.
Those days at college helped me grow in ways I could never have imagined. I began to explore different ways of thinking, different approaches to life in general. I began to see the world and my place in it in a new light. I dreamed of ways I could help others. How I longed to do something meaningful with my life, to touch the lives of many people. I knew I wanted to help people, but I did not know how. I stopped going to college because I did not think it was helping me.
I found a job in an office. I could earn my own money, be on my own. Another chapter in my life was beginning. Still I had no quilt to call my own. I remember thinking ‘Now I shall have time to make my quilt. No more papers, classes or exams, I am free to be myself, to do my own thing. I will be able to come home from work; I can sew on the quilt’.
This was my goal, but again it did not happen. I met a wonderful man who was to become your grandfather. We fell in love and then we were married. (My mother was very happy to see the pile of fabrics leave her house). We were very happy, especially when our children were born.
The pile of fabrics moved with us to each new house, growing in size through the years. Between babies, diapers, school plays and driver’s tests, the years flew by. Our children grew up and left the nest. One day, Grandpa said, ‘When you die, I guess I’ll bury this pile of fabric with you. You will never sew a quilt’. I knew the time had come to get serious about this lifelong dream of making a quilt.
“I joined a sewing club that made quilts. In the club, we talked about different kinds of quilts. I became a friend with a wonderful lady who had made many quilts over the years. Her name was Pat. She told me that not all fabrics are suitable for quilt making.
Some fabric types are better than others; she told me cotton was the best kind. Pat also told me that not all fabric textures and patterns can be used in one quilt. ‘You will need to be selective in what fabrics you choose, otherwise your quilt will be a mess and it will not last long’, she said. Finally, Pat told me to really think about how the patches would be sewn together. Pat said ‘The design of the quilt tells a story’. I was ready to begin my quilt.
“The first thing I did was to sort the fabric types. I remember Pat’s advice; not all kinds of fabrics are suitable for quilt making. I started two piles; one for fabrics that could be used in the quilt another for those fabrics that would not work. This sorting into piles was hard to do because I liked all the fabrics I had saved.
Now I had smaller pile of good fabrics. From the good pile, I had to choose the textures, colors and patterns that would work together. This second sorting was harder to do than the first one. So many wonderful fabrics were being left out. I knew I had to do this weeding out if I wanted my quilt to be worthwhile and to last a long time. But it was so hard to do.
“Finally the big pile was a small one. This small pile of fabrics contained my favorite colors, patterns and textures. My quilt started with a large square of fabric in the center. This center square was my favorite color and textured fabric. I made sure that this fabric was used again somewhere in the design.
Sewn in a block around the Center Square were my next favorite fabrics. Then other blocks of fabrics were sewn around the second row. I kept sewing rows of fabrics until I though it was big enough to use.
“I attached the batting and sewed the back on. I finally could hold my precious quilt. We are using the quilt right now. I love to use it all the time. It reminds me of my life and all the things I think are important.
You asked ‘why is it not filled with patches?’ It is because my life is not finished yet. If I find some fabric I really like, I can still add more fabric blocks to this quilt. I don’t know if it will ever be completely filled in.”
Just then the doorbell rang. It was the little boy from next door. He wanted to play. The children eagerly put on their coats, boots, and mittens. They kissed Grandma and went outside. Grandma wrapped the quilt around herself, went to the window and watched the children play in the snow. She knew that someday her grandchildren would each make their own quilt.
