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When I was a little girl, I remember mama and me, on chilly afternoons, laying down for naps under the comforting weight of her old quilt. Before drifting off to sleep, I would look at the exquisite blocks and trace my fingers across the stitches as mama told me of their makers.
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The quilt had been a gift from mama's friends on her wedding day. Each block had been
painstakingly embroidered and autographed with stitches, pieced together with love and friendship.
Although twenty years of use and many washings had faded the bright floss into soft pastel colors, the memories of mama's friends never faded from her mind.
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"These roses were embroidered by my sister, who was also my best friend...your Aunt Mabel," Mama said, "Her middle name was Rose and she loved roses, too."
Where is Aunt Mabel now, Mama?" I asked.
With a far away look of remembrance in her eyes, Mama replied,
"Mabel went to live with Jesus many years before you were born. You remind me so much of her, with your blonde hair and hazel eyes...and you act silly like she did, too." |
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"What about this pretty little hummer bird, Mama? Who made this one?"
"My friend, Faye," Mama answered. "When I was a girl, Faye and I used to sit on the old porch swing together and share our dreams.
The summer before I got married, this beautiful, red-headed hummingbird would visit us there and listen to our secrets."
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This butterfly was made by Marilyn Towne," Mama told me. "Marilyn was such a dear friend. She named her
daughter, Jennie, after me, and when you were born, I called
you Marilyn to honor our friendship."
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And so the stories of friends long gone...but never forgotten....would continue....until,
finally, the soft lull of Mama's memories would carry me off to sleep, where I would slumber, wrapped safely
within her blanket of friendship.
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