Now, this is love:
Actually, so is this:
The fine eye that visits to help me...and folds my African fabric on a shelf where I can reach it.
The visiting quilting friend, helping me choose African fabric for my last four blocks.
My girl's Irish family found this in a closet for her to use when she visits there.
She and her man bought a house next to his Irish homestead.
Does anyone know anything about this machine???
Outlook
My road is a ribbon,
special for me.
It winds round the mountain,
down to the sea.
It crosses the field
and stops on a hill.
Forever it runs
yet ever is still.
My road is a ribbon,
once old, always new,
a curious pathway
to my point of view.
by Alice FC Burt
My mother, long dead, still comforts me with her poetry.
3 comments:
That little quote choked me up. It says it all doesn't it. xx
I remember after my heart attack when I was so weak, a friend stopped over unannounced and helped me get the invitations for my daughter's baby shower done and out and helped me plan it. I could not have pulled it off but for her. My daughter did not get how hard it was for me. Now that friend is battling breast cancer and I am longarming a quilt for her she picked out my tops. The little poem packs a gigantic punch.
Caring and understanding friends are on of God's many blessings in our lives.
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