Quilts grew from necessity. Ma Ingalls made them to keep her family warm in their log cabin, and their sod hut. They have been used as maps for slaves to find their way to freedom. They have been passed down through generations, and treasured as heirlooms. They are given for wedding gifts, and to celebrate the survival of cancer patients. Mothers make them to send with their kids to college, and to welcome new babies into the family.
Quilts are also art. Amish quilts are a wonder of precision. Exhibits have been held all over the world honoring the artistry of quiltmakers from every walk of life. They can be made simply, from pretty sheets and tied with yarn. They can be incredibly intricate, completely sewn by hand, with minute stitches.
My sis and I have been occasional quilters. We love to browse quilt shops, and exclaim over color and pattern. She made me an incredible quilt, to celebrate my love of the holidays. I made her a redwork quilt for her son Riley, when he was a baby. And now, more than ever, my sister needs a quilt to celebrate the beginning of her new life.
I found the fabric when I was in Bemidji this summer. Their Ben Franklin store has a wonderful fabric department.
I knew instantly this was what I needed to make for her. The colors are so happy, the patterns a party in fabric. No longer required to stay away from florals in her bedroom, (now that the masculine requirements of her ex are no longer in effect), this quilt will be a joyful "so there!" that will make her bedroom glow with happiness. She has already purchased paint and more fabric to coordinate with it all for her bedroom and bathroom.
It isn't fancy, or incredibly detailed. It should work up rather easily, once the million pieces are cut. But with each slice of the cutter, with every stitch, I will be wrapping her in love, gently nudging her into her new, bright future.