As I started finishing two quilts, something hit me. I realized how much of my heart has gone into each stitch. Every bit of fabric and thread has a piece of me woven into it. Its colors come alive. The batting seems softer and more welcoming. Quilts are personal for me. As I finished hand stitching my best friend's quilt yesterday and packaging it up to be delivered tomorrow to a girl who is more than deserving, it brings a smile to my face. I know it will be cared for and loved, just how each stitch was put together is coated in loving drops of sweat and blood.
Every battle with the sewing machine and every "Ow!" I've yelled out from the crazy pins pricking me is worth it. It's worth seeing her smile when she opens it up and wraps herself in it for the first time. The security and love that comes in a homemade quilt cannot be duplicated. A bed without a quilt is like the sky without the stars. I know that every time she picks it up and feels the folds of fabrics and the warmth from it, she will think of me. My quilts come with a warranty. A warranty of love. A warranty that when I picked out the fabric, when I saw that pattern, when I was cutting fabric (while cursing the rotary cutter), while I was measuring out and stitching together, pining and tugging, ironing and smoothing, and finally hand stitching, I love you. I love the person I'm making it for. I love the fabric I'm holding.
It's more than just fabric. It's pure love. :D
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