Friendship Quilt

As the chill of winter sets in, I find myself reaching for an old friend crafted by the hands of another friend.

I can still see Robin sifting through bolts of fabric and bins of yardage, culling the bits and pieces that would tell a story, create a mood, enchant and delight. She holds a gift for the craft, an innate ability to play one fabric against another, an instinct that simply said "yes" when the right combination lies before her.

Although I could do this with clothing, with pattern pieces that made garments and slip covers, doggie beds and rice packs, and even non-traditional styles of quilts and duvets, my color choices lacked her zest. She could look at the tiniest shred of fabric and mentally place it in any traditional American quilt...with striking effect. I failed to see those patterns, those "connects."

Her hands stack and cut the shapes, stitch the 1/4 inch seams, square by square, from lap throws to king size bed covers; when the size was right she would layer. First the bottom or "backing," then the batting, the light fluffy filler that gives a quilt its loft and warmth, and finally that crafted, patterned topper, all draped over an expansive kitchen table. Working from the center with rulers, she meticulously sets pins every four inches in every direction, mapping out the points to be "tied" -- a process that would keep the filler from shifting into uncomfortable lumps after long periods of use.

Once pinned, she threads strands of embroidery floss through a needle and pierces the layers, pulling the floss through before tying its loose ends into double knots. Working her way to the outer edges takes hours, sometimes days if the quilt is large enough. When the edges are reached, the wide outer band of the cover is folded over and hemmed, by hand, creating a border on the backing of the piece.

It's a painstaking job, even on the smallest of quilts. Robin over the years has stitched dozens of quilts for family and friends, and dozens of more that have been given away, or donated for fundraisers. Though I used to visit often, I have since moved further away, making visits harder than they used to be. It is comforting, now, to curl up on a wintry evening and wrap myself in this quilt, knowing that her hands fashioned it, one stitch at a time.

Robin presented me with a quilt in my favored fabrics as a celebratory gift on the event of our college graduation (late in life) several years ago.

Each time I 'wear" my quilt, I am wearing a hug from my friend.