Tami’s Meandering Thoughts

Are you ready for a story? Here’s one that I would appreciate you reading! After you read this, PLEASE read the explanation on the next blog! Thanks!

I woke before my alarm sounded that warm June morning, excited about the day ahead. Downtown today there was a quilt bazaar with hundreds of quilts on display. The newspaper advertised the event as one in which Master Quilters would not only show their own quilts, but also allow a novice to bring her own blocks and squares for advice on quilting patterns and techniques.

As I gathered my half-started blocks, thread and even some uncut material, I hoped the title “Master” fit those giving the advice. My quilt needed a master to try to get it together! Although I gave it my best effort, my unskilled attempts at creating my first quilt showed up as sadly failing. I chose the material with care, but each block seemed to stand on its own, the colors and patterns not complementing each other but instead fighting each other for visual dominance. The corners were not square and the stitches sadly uneven and shaky. I knew I needed help, and I knew where to get it!

As I entered the Bazaar, I stared in wonder. Quilts. Quilts decorating the walls, quilts draped over racks, quilts proudly displayed next to their makers. In front of each Master stood a table with a sewing machine, bolts of cloth, and spools of thread. Armed with my imagination and unfinished quilt, I began walking around the room eager to pick up tips from these experts.

The display nearest the door caught my eye with its bright Christmas colors. Reds, greens and golds dominated these festive quilts. Suddenly the pleasure of the holidays and festivities flooded my emotions. Perhaps this was the lacking ingredient in my quilt. Perhaps I didn’t include enough bright “fun” colors. Obviously, this master believed that holidays, parties and fun were the basis for a beautiful quilt. As I stepped over to examine the stitching pattern used, I noticed the loose thread. These stitches, long and uneven, would never hold an entire quilt together for long. Nope, I didn’t want this master touching my quilt!

Noticing the unfriendly master at the next display, I quickly walked by. The master, with a bitter scowl, lashed out, “What, not stopping to look at my quilts? You don’t think my quilts are as good as someone else’s? Well, I don’t have all the supplies, the money, the time or even the ability that others have. I think I’ve done pretty well with what I’ve got.” No, I didn’t want this angry master touching my quilt. I promptly crossed to the other side of the room.

Honestly? I didn’t find any master on that side of the room who I would entrust my quilt to either. I saw one who proudly displayed ½ finished blocks and a completed quilt that had a hole right in the middle. No, I wanted my quilt in one piece, a beautiful, functional product.

Another master used 7-8 stitching patterns on each quilt. The finished quilts looked hurried and busy, like they couldn’t quite figure out which pattern they wanted to be. Master after Master I walked by. None of whom I wanted to entrust with my personal quilt.

Almost ready to quit and go home, I noticed a door in the back of the room. “Well,” I thought, “Perhaps they have refreshments. At least this day won’t be totally wasted!” However, as I walked through the door, I didn’t notice cookies, but the most beautiful quilts I had ever seen. Eagerly I began examining these masterpieces. The stitches were tiny and even – this master knew how to create a well-held-together piece, a quilt that would endure for years. The colors were magnificent – rich and deep with splashes of joy. Even the batting felt thick and functional. “I have got to meet this master. How can he create such practical, beautiful quilts?”

Coming up behind me, he touched my shoulder, commenting, “I see you are admiring my quilts. May I help you?” Knowing I stood in the presence of a true Master, my mind raced through all the questions to ask. Where should I start? Impulsively I thrust the bag full of my own half-started blocks and botched squares into his hands. Before I thought about what I was saying, I blurted, “I don’t know what to do with my quilt. I can’t get it even, the colors aren’t right, I even have a chocolate stain on one of the pieces. Can you help me?”

Laughing, he took my bag and led me to a chair. “Yes, I can help, but first you need to understand what that means. Each of these quilts here were brought in by someone like yourself. Someone wanting advice; someone floundering in her attempts to piece her quilt together.” I noticed how lovingly he handled each quilt, and longed for his touch on mine. “Yes, sir, I need your help” I eagerly replied.

“By giving me your quilt, you are allowing me to shape this quilt how I want to. You are now giving up your rights to its design.” Knowing that his skill to piece together was so much greater than mine, I nodded my head, “Please, master, take my pieces and see if you can create anything beautiful out of them.”

As he began placing the pieces side by side, he explained his movements. “I will use some of your blocks. They are fine. However, I will add my own stitching over them. I’ll also add some pieces, including some slashed with colors of joy and some with pain. I’ll remove the chocolate stain on this block. Nothing I create may be stained.” Slowly, as he worked, my quilt grew.

Noticing his use of scarlet sashing around every block, I interrupted his work. “Sir, I don’t mean to question your skill, but everything I’ve ever learned about quilting tells me that the sashing should be subtle, a quiet complement to emphasize the blocks themselves.” “That’s exactly what false masters say, and everyone believes them,” the Master quietly explained. “However, I do not want the blocks to draw attention to themselves. That’s what creates busyness and chaos. My quilt blocks must all be rimmed with this blood-red cloth made from lamb’s wool. You must trust that the bright red sashing around each block of your quilt will not take away from your blocks, but will instead add a deep cohesivenss to your entire quilt.”

When he was done, this Master stood up and held up the most beautiful creation I had ever seen. With a lump in my throat, I examined the regal gold thread perfectly stitched into intricate patterns, the blocks’ colors outlined in red and the creamy white boarder. As I reached for it, I suddenly drew my hand back. This quilt, this beautiful perfect piece was not my achievement. Could I really take it? Seeing my indecision, the Master gazed deeply into my eyes as if to read my reaction. “You may use this quilt. Enjoy its practical exquisiteness. Your touch will not ruin my handiwork. I am the Master of this quilt. I displayed here my design, my beauty, my touch. Many people will inquire about this quilt, tell them of me.”

As I left, I knew there could be no greater privilege then carrying my, no, his quilt and telling others of the Master who designed it.

Just a reminder: Please read “The Explanation” below!