Irregular became Granny's hand,
determined patience its guide,
feedsacks, old shirts lovingly pieced together
upon cabin porch's worn cane-bottom chair.
"Stitching prayers" she'd say,
sewing a bit long, a bit ragged. Well house,
wash tub, clucking chickens before us,
my eyes bright, hers dimmed. Quietly vibrant her voice,
warning me of life's twists and turns.
Spellbound I sat, watching snarled fingers
create Puritan Stars to wrap about my shoulders,
"To protect you from the wolves of life" -
faith-filled blessings forever guiding,
forever nurturing all my days.
by Margaret Bednar
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This is my first post for this new quilting blog "Of Gimcracks, Garnishes & Gild".