For years as I drove from state to state either in search for a better life or to care for loved ones. I had a silent divine covering in the trunk of my Mercury Monarch. It came in the form of a quilt made by my great-grandmother, Sophie. On many occasions, I used it for comfort in times of fear of the unknown.
Now, many years hence, I realize that my great-grandmother’s arms were silently hugging me as I drove throughout the Southeastern states. The love that went into that quilt blanketed me as it protected me, one of her descendants. I only met her once and as a very young child, I do not particularly remember her face.
However, I have a clear memory of her house. It felt warm and inviting after we had traveled in the hot sun to get there. My father parked under a shade tree across from her house, to cool us down. Once inside, I recall the long lace tablecloth that was draped across the dinner table in a dainty fashion. I also remember the hand-crafted doilies that sat on the arms of the furniture and decorated the room like fresh flowers. I have liked doilies ever since that day.
Little did I know that the same hands that adorned that house would one day offer me solace through a red quilt. It accompanied me for quite a few years and over many miles. My mother passed it on to me. And as fate would have it, that quilt offered me divine protection as a familial shield. So grateful!
January 1, 2022