Tuesday, December 14, 2010

A Gift of Love

Apparently, I can't count.
Yesterday was the 11th day of Christmas, not the 12th.
My apologies.
On to today, the 10th day.

Many years ago, when I was a little girl,
(well, not THAT long ago!)
we had a quilt in our family.
It was old then.
Handmade many years before by a great auntie.
I'm quite sure it is now over 100 years old.

It was heavy.
Made from pieces of old wool suits.
It even had a Navy emblem sewn into it.
It was the warmest blanket I've ever known.
Perhaps it was the love that went into the making of it that kept me so warm.

I have two older brothers
and one older sister.
Whenever one of us was sick,
my Mom placed that quilt over us.
It never failed to make us feel better.
Secure and safe.
Wrapped in warmth and love.

Somewhere a long the way,
I ended up with that quilt.
I'm sure I never gave anyone else a chance at it,
I just knew I wanted it when my Mom was ready to part with it.

It had quite a few holes in it by then.
I'm sure some of those were worn by
a small child's hand rubbing the blanket
over and over and over.
Sadly, I stowed it away in some deep, dark
recesses of my homes through the years.

Three years ago, I dug that old quilt out.
I momentarily debated tossing it out.
Instead, I mentioned to my sister how I wish I knew someone
that could repair it.
My sister loves to sew by hand and asked if she could take it
home with her for awhile.
It was my sister, so I let it go.

Many months went by with nary a thought
of that quilt.

On Christmas Eve, three years ago,
my sister handed me a rather large gift wrapped up for me.
As I opened it, my eyes filled with tears as I caught site of that quilt.
My sister had a friend of hers repair every rip, tear and hole
and gave it back to me.
Her generosity amazed me!
I can't believe she didn't keep it for herself!
What a blessing she is.

Last night, the we had a power outage.
I went to the spare bedroom and got my quilt out
and placed it on my bed.
The soft flannel of the underside brushed against my cheeks
as I gently fell asleep.
I was once again, wrapped in the warmth of that old blanket
and the love of all of my family that have used it.
Somethings just never grow old.
Love is one of them.
On this 10th day of Christmas,
I wish you love and warmth.


Kayla said...

I actually sleep under a heavy quilt, sewed from my grandpa Braastad's old flannel and wool shirts! I love the weight and heft of it...it still makes me feel safe and secure and I love the fact that something my grandma lovingly made is now helping keep me and my kids safe and warm - even though we now live far, far away and they have been in heaven for a long time!


Kandi said...

My Mom has those quilts, too...they are so heavy I love the weight (and smell) of them. Brings back memories. :)

Arlee Bird said...

Quilts are frequently family heirlooms passed down to successive generations. There are collectors who value the folk art qualities of a fine quilt.
I have an old baby towel that I had when my daughters were little that now we use when our granddaughter visits us. She loves coming to our house to take a bath and when my wife wraps the baby up in the towel it reminds me of when her mother was a baby in that same towel.

Yours was a lovely story.

Tossing It Out

Valerie said...

I have never given a gift that I was more excited about than returning the mended and restored quilt to you. Generations of our family wrap their arms around you when it covers your bed. Sleep tight tonight and for always.