Surely, when the final stitch is entered and the needle is laid to rest, only a quilter can know the feeling of pride soaring within her soul. 🧵
She has the contentment of knowing that a long, hard journey has come to an end. She has conquered a challenge, and through her patience and endurance, has created a loving work of art. It may well live on long after she has finished her walk upon this earth.🧵
Perhaps what makes a quilt so special, is that pride a quilter knows that deep in her heart she knows – some distant future generation might gaze upon her quilt, or touch its fragile threads, and still feel the love and care that she has sewn in every stitch. 🧵🪡🧶
They do not make them anymore For quilts are cheaper at the store Than woman’s labor, though a wife Men think the cheapest thing in life But now and then a quilt is spread Upon a quaint old walnut bed. A crazy quilt of those old days That I am old enough to praise. 🧵🪡
Some women sewed these points and squares Into a pattern like life’s cares. Here is a velvet that was strong The poplin that she wore so long, A fragment from her daughter’s dress, Like her, a vanished loveliness; Old patches of such things as these, Old garments and old memories.🪡🧵🧵🧶
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