Every Quilt Tells a Story...

�You see these different patches of cloth?� my grandma asked, running her hands across the patchwork quilt she made for me, which I have been using for the longest time. I nodded. �They are the different kinds of love that your mama and I have for you...�

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I had a patchwork quilt embroidered and pieced together in a theme of blue and mauve. I've used it since I was a kid till I was about nine. I was always fascinated by the various patterns on the tessellated warmer. My grandmother, in her deftness stitched the rectangular pieces of printed cotton into a three feet by four feet cover backed with another piece of fine, soft cotton.

�This blanket is like our love for you,� my grandma revealed, �it covers and protects you, always, never leaving you.� Entranced by the idea, I rubbed and snuggled up to the quilted blanket. �It is always there to comfort you, like the blanket that keeps you cool on a hot night and warm on a cold one.� And indeed, it does. The soft cotton wicks perspiration away on a warm night, maintaining a comfortable coolness while I slept, but on a cold night, the fine weave and strong stitching of the double layered quilt keeps the cold draughts out.

The quilted bedspread was indeed a miracle of love. And I have come to realize the deeper implications of the quilt as a metaphor for the affection and love my grandma and mama has for me.

It is a multifaceted affair that is ever present and ever loving. It is not demanding but ever-giving without judgment but only advising and hoping for the best. It is there to offer the best of what one needs without asking.

�See here...� my grandma continued as she pulled along the untrimmed edges of the quilt, �quilt has no borders, no frame, like our love for you, no limits, always stretching and stretching and always there, no suspicion, no limits...�

I never doubted that.