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The Winter Quilt
The quilt felt soft as my puppy. I smelled memories; like daffodils on the hillside and papa’s pipe tobacco. Granny made it for me; my first winter quilt. She finished it on a day when the trees wore a golden rainbow of leaves.
Mama let me carry it home, down the path through the forest. The quilt felt warm, like my clothes after they dry by the fire.
“Maggie, be careful crossing the bridge,” Mama said.
I tried to look down at the wooden boards in the bridge, but I couldn’t see over the reds and blues of my quilt. Off scurried a gray squirrel across our path, his mouth filled with an acorn.
“Mama, what is the gray squirrel doing?”
“Well, Maggie, he’s getting ready for winter?”
“How,” I asked. I watched the squirrel hop onto a nearby tree and climb up.
“Well, he takes the acorns to his house in the tree. Then he stores them up so he’ll have enough food for all winter long.”
“Like we do,” I asked. “When we can our beans in water or place our potatoes in the cellar where it’s cold.”
“Yes, Maggie, just like that,” Mama said, putting her hand on my arm to help me up the grassy hill to our house.
The quilt felt light, like my baby sister who takes both hands for me to hold. I looked back down the hill. Smoke rose from Granny’s chimney and a large black bear walked into his cave just across the river.
“Mama, what is that old black bear doing?”
“He’s getting ready for winter, Maggie. Bears go inside their caves to sleep. There they rest until spring.”
“Like we do?” I asked. “When we rest from planting and harvesting in the garden?”
“Just like that, Maggie,” Mama answered.
The quilt felt big, like my daddy’s hug. I dressed for bed. The night owl ‘wooed’ just outside my window. I left my big socks on so I wouldn’t feel the cold floor. I jumped onto my bed. Suddenly, I heard the sound of geese honking as they passed over the house.
“Mama, what are those geese doing?”
“They’re getting ready for winter, Maggie. Geese can’t live around here when it’s cold, so they fly to warmer places down south.”
“We won’t go anywhere, will we Mama?”
Mama placed my winter quilt on the bed and pulled it up to my chin.
“No, Maggie, we’ll use Granny’s winter quilts to keep us warm all winter long.”
The quilt felt soft like my puppy, light like my baby sister, big like my daddy’s hug, and warm like my Granny’s love; my very own winter quilt.
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