Here's a story that will send chicken skin tingles across your heart and soul. It comes from Jessica @ Variety is the Spice of Life. LY, Jessica!
I first heard about my magic quilt when I was sitting at a baby shower. It was for an acquaintance from church. She was a very nice girl, very excited to be adopting her first baby. I had never talked to her about her fertility struggles, but I knew from a mutual friend that she had quite a rough time. As she opened one of her gifts it was a quilt, handmade by Dawn, who happened to be sitting next to me. It was a bright cheerful gorgeous quilt, hand quilted flannel. Dawn leaned over and whispered in my ear, "The one I'm making for you is much better than that one." I was shocked. She was making me a quilt? I wasn't pregnant and I didn't have a baby. We had turned in our adoption papers months ago, but had heard nothing. She knew that. Why was she making me a quilt? She could see the surprise on my face and just smiled, "You'll be a mom soon, and you'll need a special baby quilt." I don't remember my response, it was probably a lame, wow--thanks. I was just too taken back and surprised. She was already making me a quilt when I didn't see motherhood anywhere near in my future.
Several months later we were selected by a birth mother. We were so excited! One Sunday at church Dawn said to me, "See I told you, you need a quilt! I had a feeling it would be a boy--it's a boy quilt. I have it already for your shower." The baby boy was born early and there never was a shower. His premature birth set into action a coarse of events that complicated our adopting him. The adoption was on and off, on again and off again for 8 long hard months while he was in and out of the adoption agency's foster care. Ultimately, we did not adopt him, his birth mother was cornered into parenting him by the birth father's family. We were heart broken and worn from the whole experience.
As we were learning the ending to this sad story, we were also in the middle of a cross country move. Dawn knew we were leaving. I had forgotten all about the quilt, and really I wanted no reminders of our emotional ride. She called and asked if she could come over and bring by her "gift." It was so generous and thoughtful, I couldn't say no. She walked in with a white shoe box with a red bow tied around it. She didn't say much, I think she knew how sad I was about the adoption falling through. She told me that she had made the quilt for me and for my baby that she knew I would soon hold. She wanted me to keep the quilt because she knew I would love it and use it when the time came. I didn't open the box at the time, it was too hard. But I thanked her and gave her a hug.
Many months later after we had moved into our new home in another state and had finished updating our adoption papers, I opened the box, hoping it would bring a little joy and anticipation with it. The quilt she had made was amazing. I loved it--the geometric design, the colors, it was hand quilted--she had done an amazing job. It truly was the cutest baby quilt I had ever seen. The design of the quilt (diamonds) even went with the baseball fabric. I felt terrible that I hadn't opened it in front of her and told her then how much I loved it. But even then the quilt stirred up all the deep painful emotions of the baby that was almost ours. I looked at the quilt and wondered, "What if we end up adopting a girl?"
More than a year after she gave me the quilt, I flew to Indiana to pick up our first baby--a boy. He has bright blue eyes just like the blue in the quilt she had made. He has all the energy and strength that the quilt has. I took the quilt with me and happily wrapped him up in it at the hotel our first night with him. It was a magical moment. All those hours she spent making the quilt where now finally filling their purpose.
I now have 3 boys, all adopted. All three have slept under that quilt, played on it, learned to roll over on it, and eventually crawled off of it. The quilt is a reminder to me of generous love, the kind our Savior taught us, the kind that can heal us. The quilt is a gift of faith. When our own light is fading, others can light the way for us, still believing when we are discouraged. I'm grateful for my quilt, it will always be a symbol to me of love and faith.
I first heard about my magic quilt when I was sitting at a baby shower. It was for an acquaintance from church. She was a very nice girl, very excited to be adopting her first baby. I had never talked to her about her fertility struggles, but I knew from a mutual friend that she had quite a rough time. As she opened one of her gifts it was a quilt, handmade by Dawn, who happened to be sitting next to me. It was a bright cheerful gorgeous quilt, hand quilted flannel. Dawn leaned over and whispered in my ear, "The one I'm making for you is much better than that one." I was shocked. She was making me a quilt? I wasn't pregnant and I didn't have a baby. We had turned in our adoption papers months ago, but had heard nothing. She knew that. Why was she making me a quilt? She could see the surprise on my face and just smiled, "You'll be a mom soon, and you'll need a special baby quilt." I don't remember my response, it was probably a lame, wow--thanks. I was just too taken back and surprised. She was already making me a quilt when I didn't see motherhood anywhere near in my future.
Several months later we were selected by a birth mother. We were so excited! One Sunday at church Dawn said to me, "See I told you, you need a quilt! I had a feeling it would be a boy--it's a boy quilt. I have it already for your shower." The baby boy was born early and there never was a shower. His premature birth set into action a coarse of events that complicated our adopting him. The adoption was on and off, on again and off again for 8 long hard months while he was in and out of the adoption agency's foster care. Ultimately, we did not adopt him, his birth mother was cornered into parenting him by the birth father's family. We were heart broken and worn from the whole experience.
As we were learning the ending to this sad story, we were also in the middle of a cross country move. Dawn knew we were leaving. I had forgotten all about the quilt, and really I wanted no reminders of our emotional ride. She called and asked if she could come over and bring by her "gift." It was so generous and thoughtful, I couldn't say no. She walked in with a white shoe box with a red bow tied around it. She didn't say much, I think she knew how sad I was about the adoption falling through. She told me that she had made the quilt for me and for my baby that she knew I would soon hold. She wanted me to keep the quilt because she knew I would love it and use it when the time came. I didn't open the box at the time, it was too hard. But I thanked her and gave her a hug.
Many months later after we had moved into our new home in another state and had finished updating our adoption papers, I opened the box, hoping it would bring a little joy and anticipation with it. The quilt she had made was amazing. I loved it--the geometric design, the colors, it was hand quilted--she had done an amazing job. It truly was the cutest baby quilt I had ever seen. The design of the quilt (diamonds) even went with the baseball fabric. I felt terrible that I hadn't opened it in front of her and told her then how much I loved it. But even then the quilt stirred up all the deep painful emotions of the baby that was almost ours. I looked at the quilt and wondered, "What if we end up adopting a girl?"
More than a year after she gave me the quilt, I flew to Indiana to pick up our first baby--a boy. He has bright blue eyes just like the blue in the quilt she had made. He has all the energy and strength that the quilt has. I took the quilt with me and happily wrapped him up in it at the hotel our first night with him. It was a magical moment. All those hours she spent making the quilt where now finally filling their purpose.
I now have 3 boys, all adopted. All three have slept under that quilt, played on it, learned to roll over on it, and eventually crawled off of it. The quilt is a reminder to me of generous love, the kind our Savior taught us, the kind that can heal us. The quilt is a gift of faith. When our own light is fading, others can light the way for us, still believing when we are discouraged. I'm grateful for my quilt, it will always be a symbol to me of love and faith.
Below is the fabric I am contributing, which represents my own magic quilt.
6 comments:
Jessica,
I LOVED this story. How beautiful and wonderful. What an awesome idea to be able to give others faith. And even though you didn't even have any faith at that moment. I am so happy for you that things finally went right for you.
What a great story!
Love this!
I love this entry...made me cry a little bit and I love a good cry :)
This is sooo beautiful and heartwarming. Thank you Jessica for sharing this story, it truly is a wonderful example of love and faith.
I was crying the whole time I was reading it and it's a good cry, just what I needed today.
What a great story... and to hear it from your perspective.. you know how sometimes you do something and you think.. 'was that helpful? or did I make a big deal about nothing??.."
It's wonderful to hear how your prayers were answered 3x! 3 boys!
Beautiful story- thanks for sharing!
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