The Gift of a Quilt.

Meg Buzzi's account of her grandfather's poignant letters which covered a thirty year span of the family's story remind me of my grandmother's quilts. Nanny has been quilting as long as she can remember. Her mother, my great-grandmother, taught her to quilt when she was a little girl. Quilting is a tradition that was passed down from her mother, her mother's mother, her mother's mother's mother, etc. Accordingly, Nanny taught me to quilt when I was a little girl. Granted, I never made more than a couple squares, but I learned and appreciated the craft.

Quilting is one of the most time consuming activities that my grandmother engages in (second only to cooking, I would guess), and it is also one of the most selfless activities. She spends hours, days, weeks, and months producing beautifully intricate quilts and then consequently gives away the item which has so absorbed her energy.

A few years ago Nanny called all of the grandchildren into the living room on Christmas day. We were amazed by the sight that met our eyes: the couches, chairs, and walls were covered in quilts, each one uniquely exquisite.

"Pick one!" She said.

We excitedly ran about an examined our options. Somehow, miraculously, each grandchild got their first choice. I was soon the proud owner of the "Grandmother's Fan" quilt, which I sleep under to this day. Nanny's gift to the grandchildren provided a treasure for every single grandchild that created a link to her and a reminder of home.