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Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Sewing (02/22/07)
Streams of sunlight broke through the windowpane. Danielle stole the moment to swaddle herself in them like a blanket, a quilt. “Yes, a quilt,” she thought. “If only I could weave each sunbeam into a quilt that would keep me warm all the year long?”

“Danielle, come on, you’re wasting time. Stop daydreaming. Daydreaming won’t keep you warm when the first snow falls,” intruded her mother into her imagination. Danielle glanced around at the enormous chore that lay before her. Surrounded by swabs of old material, she sat in dismay.

As if her grandmother could magically read her ambiguous emotions, she appeared from the kitchen carrying a worn cloth. Danielle assumed it was the rag used for drying dishes, but on closer observation, it was a small, weathered quilt. Hunkering herself down into the rocking chair, grandmother explained, “This is my quilt. While it is small because we owned little, it tells my life story, pieces of who I am. Would you like to add to it? Tell your story, dear.” With those short words of wisdom, grandmother hoisted out of the chair and wandered back towards her duties.

“ Story?” inquired Danielle’s thoughts. “Yes, she loved a praiseworthy story, and she could weave a few tales herself. Could she quilt them?” The swabs of material took on a fresh uniqueness. Searching for her story, Danielle chose a section of her old baby blanket, her favorite church dress, and a simple plain piece of material that she dyed one of her favorite scriptures onto with the sweet blackberries of summer. Sewing all of it into the quilt her grandmother had begun, Danielle knew this was a sewing project that would last a lifetime.

“Gilda! Gilda!” Her mother’s voice brought Gilda’s thoughts swimming back to the present. “Gilda, come on, stop daydreaming. You have chores to do.” Wrapped in the warmth of the antique quilt, Gilda often dreamt of the women in her family that came before her. The magical quilt transcended history like a time machine; the joy, love, passion and pain of her sister’s indwelled her. Glimpsing over the quilt as it spread out from her bed onto the floor, Gilda beheld blackberry stained words crumpled in her fist. Straightening the quilt, the time worn words read, “Psalm 133:1 Behold how good and pleasant it is for sisters to dwell together in unity!”
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Member Comments
Member
Date
Jacquelyn Horne
03/01/07
Wonderful article of generations of stories being passed down through a quilt. very well written, a few errors (The last sentence in the first paragraph is not a question.)But overall, a very well written nostalgic story.
Marilee Alvey
03/03/07
This is a touching story. It needs just a bit of proofreading for grammatical errors, but that's simple to fix...and you can always find someone who'd be kind enough to take a few moments if you go on the boards and ask. Your mentioning "sister's" which should have been "sisters" confused me. I wondered if Danielle had been her older sister, at first. It's a delightful story. I can only imagine having such a treasure in my family. I know it wouldn't come from me, though!