This is a quilt that my mother completed herself before she passed away last September. It was given to me last night, and it kept me warm during the Iowa night. A piece of art that my mother designed, pieced together and quilted with her own hands. It makes me tremble just to think about what that truly means. Will I ever be able to provide anything like that for my own children? They are not impressed with my stories and books. They don;t even laugh at my jokes. I can’t say I have provided them a home in their young lives the way my mother and father did for me. It is humbling.
Catch a Falling Star 