The quilt I have been creating for my daughter for the past two months is finished. It's laying on the floor with no audience but me. It may be the most beautiful quilt I have ever made, if beauty is quantifiable. But let some of the facts be said.
Over two thousand pieces
Twelve yards of batik fabric
Seventy hours
Three pads of tracing paper to create the patterns
The accumulated experience of forty years of sewing
I
am not shouting in celebration, although the satisfaction I feel is complete. It was a long process, although even as I say that I blush to call two months a long time for something I hope will last her into 2050.
Earlier this week three friends called in a panic about the dance tonight. One girl needed her dress taken in half an inch on the side seams. A young man needed his pants hemmed. Another young lady had to
have straps sewn to her otherwise strapless, and hence not up to code, gown. Each of the projects took me barely twenty minutes, and very little expertise. Yet because of the time crunch and their inability to find a needle themselves, they were thrilled. More than thrilled. Their gratitude exceeded the task by a factor of ten.
My daughter will probably swing by to get her quilt this weekend. She will hug me, to be
sure, but she would have given the same hug if I had done her laundry.
It is amusing to notice the disparity between my effort and the response. The world is partial to the same randomness. People who are beautiful are showered with attention, while they did nothing to fashion their faces. Kind gestures often go unacknowledged, like the person who planted the daffodils that sway beside the roads every
April.
Marriage is a case in point. Where is the observance of two people who have slogged through another year of unspoken criticisms and redundant efforts? A card seems less than adequate, even if it is one of those that sing a tune.
Perhaps there are, as the scriptures suggest, treasures in heaven that last even past
2050.
"Lay not up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and thieves break through and steal. But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven where neither moth nor rust destroy, nor thieves break through and steal." Matthew 6
