The Work of Their Hands - My Grandmother

Dear Diary,

I discovered, in an old cardboard box, the baby quilt my grandmother made when I was born while we were clearing out my mother's basement after she died back in 2002. It had been pack away for nearly 50 years. There was barely a square inch that didn't have some soft staining on it...it was very well used I would say or perhaps being kept captive in cardboard in a damp cellar contributed to the staining. I remember tears filling up my eyes as I lifted it out of the box. My grandmother had been dead for 14 years by that time but here I was running my fingers over the stitches she had lovingly made all those years before...for me.

It is covered with charming little appliques of animals, this rabbit is one of my favorites. In the center is a little girl leading a goat. It is now one of my most cherished possessions. My grandmother was a wonderful needle artist. She was never without some project...a quilt, crocheting or knitting. Her hands were never still.

She taught me to crochet when I was very young with a giant hook and bulky yarn. I'd sit at her feet by her favorite chair for hours trying to master the simple chain stitch. Growing up I really had three "mothers" and they all were talented needle artists who taught me to appreciate the work of gifted hands. I feel blessed that my Grandmother lived with us. I grew up with her gentle presence in the house. I have to agree with Louisa May Alcott..."A house needs a grandma in it".