Storytellers of Our Past
Ragged, tattered, faded and torn but still holding memories of my growing years. This quilt was hand stitched, hand quilted and then turned and buttonhole stitched around each hexagon with lots of love by my grandmother. I surely did not appreciate the workmanship at the time I curled beneath it. Now that I can understand the many hours that went into it’s making I shall try to figure out how to preserve it as pieces from the past.
I have one very old quilt also. Different because both my grandmothers were dead before I was born, so I have nothing from one, and only a used and abused quilt from the other grandma. I seldom bring it out because it is difficult to imagine what the quilt would say if it could talk, and it saddens me to never have known them. Maybe that is why I make quilts now, so my descendants will remember me. (For fun and fabric and many great friendships)!!!