A short poetic story about Quilts and family. |
The old quilt was tattered and worn. But each stitch with love was sewn. The day they married they covered their bed with the quilt so pretty and new. It covered them as their love was shared all down through the years and even though it was patched many times..its beauty was still there. Through the years of life and washing the quilt started to fade and come apart. Pieces of our lives started to be sewn into the quilt, covering the holes that appeared as life upon it fell. A piece of Dads shirt or a bit of a worn dress. It was patched over and over. Even with the edges frayed and colors faded it was still adored. The go to quilt for bunking parties and family gatherings. Many times it was used for a pallet of the floor. Long after its newness had left It still gave us comfort through the night. Especially when the nights were long and some were hard to bear. We wrapped its warmth around us and within its folds it caught our tears. Now it lays in a heap upon a bed that now is lonely and cold. The life that the old quilt covered has gone to other shores. The fabric is so threadbare that it looks like a pile of rags. But as it is gathered up into a bag, a piece I happened to see. One little bit of blue brought a flood of memories. It was a piece of a childhood dress so cherished long ago. It had been sewn into place with a stitch so fine and true. That simple little piece turned back the hands of time. To my momma bending near and pulling that quilt so warm up around my ears. As I held that old ragged quilt I felt her standing near. It holds the history of your life she whispered and even though it is past its prime within each square is written a moment of your time. Don't throw away this gem this sample of our years. Take it home with you it is a timeless treasure. The tears fell as I held the quilt as the memories flooded in, The little pieces bringing joy as I lovingly looked upon them. I took the quilt and left that day determined to keep it safe, And someday maybe my children would feel the love that I held so close in that old quilt that day... |