I have a story about a quilt lasting the test of time. As the second child of five born in less than six years, I spent a lot of my preschool years at my grandparents’ house. My grandma Pat Simning was a very special lady to me, as she also outlived my mother by eight years.
I took 4-H for four years as a kid so I was a sewist. I made my first quilt in 1995 from a book and a little help with a couple of older quilters. They invited me to hand quilt with them on Wednesdays and Thursdays at their homes, just like an old-fashioned quilting bee.
One day, my grandmother said, “Wrapped in a corduroy pram cover in the top of a closet, are some quilt blocks I made the year your Uncle Terry was born.”
“What year was that?,” I asked.
“It was the winter of 1943,” she replied.
They had butterflies that were hand cut out of old clothes, including an apron and a dress. At one time, I had a piece of paper with notes of where some of the fabrics came from.
I brought the quilt blocks to my home in Deloraine, Man. (southwest of Winnipeg) and two hours from her home in Crystal City.
I lovingly hand washed them then laid them out to dry on my counters and table. When my husband came home, he glanced at them and said, “I know this quilt will have sentimental value, but it isn’t going to look very good.” He had a point.
Remaking the quilt
To maintain the era of the quilt while attempting to create something esthetically pleasing, I bought some reproduction prints. By the time I found the fabrics I wanted, it took four years to complete the quilt. I hand quilted it, and it was beautiful! Even my husband agreed.
My kids at the time were young and weren’t yet aware of how unique the opportunity for this project was.
I gave this quilt back to my grandmother in 2003 – 60 years after she started it. My grandmother was very stoic and reserved, so she didn’t show much emotion.
I could tell by the way she inspected all the details and took the time to review the history of the fabric on all the blocks that she was pleased! Shortly after receiving the quilt, my grandmother moved into a long-term care home.
She took the quilt with her to her new home and hung it on the wall next to her bed where it became a conversation piece for everyone who visited. When she passed away, her quilt came back to me.
This is just a little story of how a UFO (unfinished object) meant the world to two quilters.
Do you have a heart-warming story about a quilt like this one? Feel free to share it via Lois.Tuffin@CanadianQuilterAdministration.com.
