A Treasure 

By: Mildred Hatfield

It’s more than a coverlet
More than a spread,
This beautiful quilt
That graces my bed.

It’s laughter and sorrow,
It’s pleasure and pain,
It’s small bits and pieces
Of sunshine and rain.

It’s a bright panorama
Of scraps of my life –
It’s moments of glory,
It’s moments of strife.

It’s a story I cherish
Of days that have been.
It’s a door I can open
To live them again.

Yes, it’s more than a cover,
This much-treasured quilt.
It’s parts pieced together
Of the life I have built.

In March, Mom told me she wanted to make me a bow tie quilt. A little hand stitching to work on while recovering from knee replacement. I was completely thrilled. I wanted it red and white. We started picking through our fabrics and picking up red and white fabrics here and there and got together several times to cut out fabrics.

Our first squares were made in Searcy, Arkansas visiting Chad, Easter weekend. Mom made a square at each place we stayed on this trip. One in Lori’s cottage and her parents house, many in our cousin’s home in Texas. We also picked up fabrics from Lori’s mom, Kathie and a couple of neat quilt shops in Texas. 

Mom got a good jump-start on them before time for her surgery. I stitched one in the waiting room…. and in her hospital room…. and rehab room.

It was many weeks before MOM picked up the quilting again. I snapped this one below and you can see her knee still wrapped. My heart warmed as I came into her rehab room and saw her stitching again. A healing sign. 

Months later when we had enough squares, we spread out all our squares and arranged them and rearranged and mom sewed them together. And the long process of hand quitting began.

Only very special quilts get hand stitched. Happy mine is one of them.

Each time I visited mom, she would spread out the quilt and show me her progress.  The precious quilt had stitches added daily for several months. When Mom fell and broke her hip it was weeks and weeks and weeks before she thought of stitching again. She would tell me she would look at the quilt untouched and feel like she should be stitching but couldn’t wrap her brain around it yet. I told her she would one day and sure enough she did. A healing sign.

I got regular updates.

Then one day I get a text that she’s working on the binding.

The day it was finally done, Mom was bringing it to church.  I was home sick with an inner ear infection, that was giving me vertigo. Kevin likes to tell the story of me ready for church but running into the hallway walls and holding on to the back to the sofa to keep from falling over but determined to go to church to get my quilt. Kevin finally called my parents and invited them over after church in order to keep me home. Then he acted out me falling into the walls saying, “I’ve got to get my quilt” This quilt was instantly adopted by both cats! We’ve taken many a nap under its comfort. The poem’s words are so true. These stitches were made in good times and bad, rain and sunshine, heartache and thankfulness, and treasured times together. All from the hands of a giver who never gave up, and strived to bounce back.  A precious gift from my mom in a year that I will never forget. 

Much love to the giver.

Katey