Dodie Jane

MASTER QUILTER

IN LOVING MEMORY — A SISTER, A MAKER OF WARMTH

Stitches in Time

As the stitches of life we sew,
We create a pattern, row by row, strong.

Precise small patterns interwoven,
A careful hand reveals where they belong.

A picture starts to form,
Threads of color begin to dance.

But feeble hands grow slow,
And the quilt of life goes without a glance.

The colorful quilt has lain there for years
With hardly a caller.

Now her beauty has come to life,
We see her tattered squares somehow stand taller.

We recognize her colorful squares
That once dressed her children in youth.

Until this day they went unnoticed.
Life’s a stitch in time is the fragile truth.

The threadbare lady has lost some appeal,
Lying lonely for years, dressing empty beds.

Once filled with laughter and the giggles of life,
No longer resting small heads.

The cedar chest now opens, she is tucked safely inside
In a careful, protective way,

Only to be revealed by appreciative hands with new stitches,
And once again on display.

Life is a series of stitches, no matter how our quilts are sewn.
It is up to us to follow a pattern showing where the threads belong.