scraps

When my dad passed away last year we found quilts in every closet of the house. A few were hand sewn by my great grandmother and granny for my father when he was a boy. Several were machine made by granny (dad's mother) and had been given out as presents.
My favorite quilt is the one with no known origin or story. Someone patiently placed small squares of scraps next to each other to form an amazing quilt. The hand sewn stitches have a rhythmic pace between them but no rhyme or reason to the placement of the fabric, which is lovely! Being wrapped up in this quilt brings me great comfort maybe this is were it's story begins.