Chronicle of a Quilt

While men worked hard until the barn was built, the womenfolk were gathered for a bee. They pieced together patches for a quilt and chatted with the new bride happily. Upon this handmade quilt were babies laid, and eldest daughters passed the heirloom down. That barn became the place where children played as houses multiplied. There grew a town. The quilt, once shown with pride, became forgot, and decades in an attic it was stored. One day a fire blazed; the things not sought stayed in the loft, while saved were things adored. And so a bride’s first gift in ashes lay; its glory long ago had passed away. by Andrea Dietrich For Nette Onclaude's Contest: "Anything Handmade"