Vintage Quilt

She hand stitched it in the 40's,
by hand. 

 Quilted it, by hand... 

all 10,000 pieces.

 After she had passed on, her daughter gave it to my mom, 

and now the old  quilt was being passed on to me.

"It has lived in two log cabins since the 40's", mom said, unwrapping the bundle,

 "and I think it belongs in your log house now."  

My heart quickened when I saw it.

I knew I would lay it on the piano, a place it will be seen and admired...

but at that moment, I had no idea what would happen
 as I rest  my eyes upon it while I sit in the rocker by the fire.

What can be accomplished,
it asks,
 when a person takes one small thing and adds to it?

 Bits of scraps seem to lecture me of the faithfulness in little,

when added and multiplied,

 can become something awesome.
It could be anything:  savings, time, discipling...
oh there are so many facets the analogy could take.

 The diminutive pieces of the vintage quilt are singing to me of kind words, 

when repeated over and over become a heap..

a heap to heal, 

to strengthen,

 to encourage.

Just imagining the quilter taking such pains with bits

 that most people would toss away as uselessly small

 inspires me
to courageously tackle that difficulty that lies before me
one tiny step at a time. 

 Yes, it must have taken great courage to begin such a project.

 She must have had a great amount of patience and perseverance as well. 

 The quilt speaks of character, 

giant character
 hidden in a kind old woman who didn't look very extraordinary....

but she was.

As much as the world screams and rages at us to be significant,

 the quilt whispers to me to be faithful in the small things, 

to live humbly and quietly,
yet with great courage..

 like the quilter.

"And do not be weary in well doing
 for in due season you shall reap
 if you faint not."  
Gal. 6:9