I love old things for the stories they tell and the way they tie people together--those who have never met, but somehow love each other.
We have a family quilt that I just love. As Woody and I talked about putting together the guest room in our new home, we shared ideas and vision for what it would look like, and through conversation, this family quilt became a centerpiece for me.
My mom told me she would like for me to have it, but I wasn't going to be able to get it from her in time for our first guests. But, like the sweet mama that she is, she surprised me and mailed it to me, and it arrived the day before our guests did! It was just the finishing touch the room needed and it makes me happy every time I see it.
I asked my mom who made this family quilt, and she answered with the most simple and beautiful story of its place in our family story:
"I believe my grandmother Ada pieced it and probably a woman named Mrs. Raby helped hand quilt it. Because I recognize some of the fabric from dresses I've seen pictures of my grandmother in. I just remember it always on my grandparents bed when I was growing up."
I absolutely love knowing that this quilt kept my great grandparents warm and made their room pretty.
I love thinking about what my great grandmother, Ada, did when wearing the dresses some of these tiny squares were cut from.
I love the resourcefulness of that generation--making a quilt from items already owned--and I like to think I'm keeping a bit of that spirit by using the same quilt in my home instead buying one new.
In our world of instant-gratification, quick-fixes, and easy access to most anything, it feels good to pause and let the past teach us.
Teach us to appreciate what we have and to savor the gift of something made by loving hands.
Hands that rocked my grandmother, who rocked my mother, who rocked me.
Hands that helped build my family.
Hands that I wish I could hold, caress, or high five.
But for today, I will proudly lay this quilt in my home, and welcome the heart of family, love, and resourcefulness it brings.
And finally I'll say, "If this was good enough for you, Great Grandmother, it's good enough for me."