• one, two, three...three times she had pricked her finger. the petite child laid aside her momentarily frustrating attempt at stitching and watched her grandmother with two calm blue oceans. how easily her grandmothers fingers drew the colored dashes of cloth into the warm floral patterns in the quilt. she smiled, seeing the splash of yellow that formed the petals of her favorite sunflowers collide with the dark purple of the newly formed violets. inching closer to her grandmother she looked up to her chirped in the singsong voice so often sung by her kind "tell me about life Grami."

    Grami smiled, and began the tale, her voice moving as smoothly as her needle glided over the fabric tieing the words into thier silken sentences.

    "life little one is like this quilt. as you grow your splashes of color are stitched together to make the story of your life. only your favorite colors are used and no matter the pattern, life is always beautiful. even after your grown and small spots of age and sadness gather on the edges life will keep you safe and warm and no matter were you go life will follow gathering you in its warmth.."

    the old woman and small child smiled at each other. the little girl picked up her stitching and listened as the woman intructed her on quilting and the life that would be stitched together.
    THE END