My great grandmother, Lula Belle, lived on a farm in W.V.. To hear my mother talk about her, she was very tiny, with size 1 feet, long – curly white hair and very meek. She had seen her share of hardships. She lost at least 5 babies, many before they even turned one year old and her first husband when his best friend shot him in a depressed rage. She raised many children and grand children. I’ve recently learned, she and my father even raised a stone church. Her picture has always hung in my home. If ever a virtuous woman existed, it was her. This is her quilt.

Several years ago, when my grandmother passed away, my mother received her quilt. It was in such terrible shape. One of the in-law family members had used most of her quilts to wash cars, dog bedding, etc. and this was the only that survived, albeit barely.

I tried to restore it a few years ago; replaced some stitching, but mostly darning worn spots and filling in where patches used to be. It seemed unethical to try and do any more than that. But having just done those few repairs, I could feel in my heart, each stitch she took, wondered what her thoughts were as she made it, the sense of humor she quietly displayed in the fabrics she chose.

The above picture shows a deeper red plaid flannel, that patch was from my nightgown as a girl. There is a pale blue calico patch to the right, that is from my mother’s nightgown. The other patches are from Granda Ward’s nightgowns and her husband’s boxers. I love the lady from his Valentine boxers with the words, Anything…. But most of all – I love my Great Grandmother and the cherished values and love that she gave to even generations she did not know for long. I can’t wait to see you one day, sweet Gram!