A Magical Christmas
My Quilt
My mom has never been a seamstress. She can make clothing, blankets, or pillows using a sewing machine if she has to but it does not come easily to her. She wanted to give something to me that would be special, memorable, and useful. She decided to make me a quilt.
She picked a pattern and began the tedious process of appliqueing. She gathered scraps and worked at matching them to create the picture on each quilting square. I watched her anxiously wanting her to finish my quilt as fast as she could, but I noticed that she had less and less time to work on it with all the other chores and responsibilities she had around the farm. In fact before long, she was no longer working on it.
The year passed and it was soon Christmas. Christmas Eve is one of my favorite times of the year because there is a magical quality to the night. Children are anxious for Santa Claus’ arrival.
As the clock struck 9 o’clock, I began worrying that Santa would not come if I did not get in bed soon. Carol, my Aunt Toys, was home from college and I was going to share a bed with her. I quickly changed into my pajamas. They were ones that Carol had passed down to me. They were green and white striped full-bodied pajamas with feet. Looking back I am sure they were atrocious, but at the time I thought they were cool.
I went to the formal parlor of my grandparents’ home where the Christmas tree stood surrounded by mounds of presents all dressed in shiny green and red paper. The lights of the tree reflected in the eyes of everyone in the room. My mom, dad, brother, Carol, Mama, and Papa were all there waiting to fulfill a Holliday family tradition. We could all choose one present to open.
I carefully surveyed the different packages with my name on them. I settled on one that had been peaking my curiosity for many weeks now. It was from my mom and only my mom. Usually presents were from both my parents, but not this one. It was quite large in size, and did not make a sound when you shook it. Believe me I tried. The gift was also bulky. It was not really heavy with weight, but rather hard to carry. I selected this gift and sat down waiting for my turn.
Finally it was my turn. I ripped off the paper and the bow. An unmarked cardboard box lay in front of me waiting to be opened. My heart beat a little faster with excitement. I tore the tape that was holding teh lid down and lifted the four sides of the lid off of the tops. Then I looked inside.
Different emotions flooded me: surprise, shock, happiness, and amazement. My quilt lay neatly folded up inside the box.
It had a cream-colored bottom that also trimmed the outer four sides of the quilt, which would fit a full-sized bed. Fabric, which had once been a dress for me, bordered all the quilting squares. Very small red, light blue, and dark blue flowers sat on short green stems on a mauve background.
On each 11″ stripe of border, my mother had meticulously quilted a row of hearts. Five hearts in a row either sitting on top or overlapped depending on the direction of the borders. The quilting squares were off-white and in the center of the square lay a faceless boy or girl. Large bonnets or hats hid their faces, and each of their outfits was well coordinated. Behind them my mom had quilted diagonal lines in a pattern.
A Quilted Square
In the lower right hand corner, my mom embroidered these words:
To Lara Holliday
With Love, Mom
December 1983.
I still do not know when she quilted and sewed my gift. She had to have waited until I went to bed and stayed up late to get the quilt finished. Love truly went into the gift and her love continues to transcend time as even today I can feel her love when I look at my quilt.
Carol and I immediately laid it carefully over her usual comforter on her bed. It looked magnificent. I crawled underneath my covers and slid between the two cold sheets. As I lay waiting for my body heat to warm the bed, I could not help wondering, “How? How did she do it?”
But as I said before, Christmas Eve is magical and that was the reason I decided upon: magic. The power of one’s love and the spirit of creating a gift from the heart are magical.
What a wonderful memory…I had completely forgotten that story, and the p.j.’s! Thanks for reminding me. Of course you were sleeping with me. I’m sure I awoke Christmas morn to “Aunt Toys, the sunshine’s up!”