Yesterday was Sarah's birthday and it made me think about a present that Emma made for Sarah for her third birthday. Emma had just turned seven. She cooked the birthday present plan up with Pat, our neighbor, expert craftswoman, and honorary grandmother.
I'm guessing that it was Emma who thought of the idea of making a quilt for Sarah's baby dolls. She would have known that Sarah would love that. When Emma played, she liked to be the chef, waitress, actress or dancer. Her make-believe games always involved exotic costumes and/or realistic props. We had a well-equipped play kitchen and that was supplemented with a dining table, cash register, and even order pad so that Emma could transform her home kitchen to a restaurant kitchen. A shopping cart and scanning register transformed the basement into a supermarket in no time. And Emma never had a problem pushing that stuff to the side and transforming the basement again, this time into a dance studio or stage. That was how Emma liked to play pretend.
But Sarah, as Emma knew well, liked to be the mommy or the teacher. Her games involved baby dolls, diapers, baby bottles, strollers, and cribs. Sometimes the scene would be school and there would be multiple baby dolls and a book or felt board. Sarah even had a little wicker cradle in her bedroom so that her baby doll could sleep right near her mommy. That was why Emma would have known that Sarah would love to have a special quilt for her baby.
I imagine she had to sell Pat on the doll quilt. Pat was a good sport, but she was also practical. She must have wondered whether it was really possible for a seven year old to participate in crafting a quilt, especially a seven year old with notably pudgy little fingers. But Emma would have been confident and Pat would not have wanted to dissuade her.
The front of the quilt that they made together is a classic patchwork. Pat let Emma pick out the fabric from which they carefully measured and cut squares. Then Pat sewed the squares together on her sewing machine, sometimes letting Emma guide the fabric or press on the foot pedal. "Gently, Emma. Gently," Pat would have to remind her, when she would press the pedal too enthusiastically.
The back of the quilt is a solid fabric and is stitched to the patchwork front with many, many imperfect stitches that are all Emma's. She stopped by Pat's house daily in the 2 weeks leading up to Sarah's birthday to work on all those stitches that lovingly hold the two sides of the quilt together. It is really amazing to think of Emma's puffy little seven year old hands, patiently stitching all around the outside of that quilt; or of Pat, patiently watching, encouraging her, and keeping her on task when she got absorbed in telling a great story. I'm sure there were many great stories that went into the making of that quilt; stories that Pat told Emma, and stories that Emma told Pat. They are an important part of the patchwork product. You can almost trace the stories in the stitches as they make their way around the quilt. "Ah, see here they were sitting quietly, the stitches are small and precise. But here is where they were enjoying a tall tale that was much more interesting and important than the stitches they were adding to the quilt."
But the most precious part of the quilt is a square found on the back, carefully hand-stitched onto the quilt by Emma and bearing a birthday inscription in her very own seven year old handwriting. It reads, "To My Sweet Sister. May she always be kind and generous. Made by Emma von Euler. July 10, 1999."
Those words are completely Emma's. I can practically hear her speak them. Even then, Pat would have realized how important it was to the finished product to include that one special square. But she could never have known what a treasure that quilt would become, capturing and preserving two of our great loves.
I just wanted to tell you that I think this is beautiful. Right now I am struggling with my own son and his battle with depression. I do not want to lose him and this has given me some inspiration in a funny sort of way. I am sorry for you loss. I can't imagine your pain and I hope as a mother that I do not have to. Thanks for posting this. You and your family are in my prayers.
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