The Magic Quilt

A gift from Joaquin Benito Ruiz

2011-04-17T21:51:00.000-07:00

In January I attended the funeral of a six-year-old boy named Joaquin Benito Ruiz.

I didn't know him, but his mom used to be my sister-in-law. And his sister is my niece.

Joaquin died of complications from congenital heart disease, but he had other problems too--problems with long names that I can't pronounce or remember--and he actually lived three years longer than expected.

As soon as I showed up at the funeral I immediately fell in love with Joaquin and his family. Joaquin's many brothers and one sister (my niece) touched me deeply as I watched them gathered around his casket, stroking his hair lovingly. And longingly. The image of it lingers with me even three months later, as do the life lessons I scribbled down on a piece of yellow card stock during the service.

The funeral felt like a spiritual eye opening somewhere in the corners of my heart. My sister and her husband, who lost a child 12 years ago, agreed and later said it was life changing for them.

Joaquin's father gave such a beautiful tribute to his little's boy's life, that I dug into my purse for a pen and paper to write down the poignant insights to share here on The Magic Quilt with those of you who have lost your own children.

I have been wanting to record my experience at the funeral, but somehow, somewhere the yellow card disappeared into thin air. I searched high and low for weeks, but to no avail. Finally yesterday I said a silent prayer, asking God to please, please help me find the yellow card so I wouldn't lose those comforting messages. And then I stopped searching.

Later in the day I started moving some bookshelves around and transferring books from shelf to shelf. Just as I was completing the project, the yellow card fell from one of the books and landed at my feet.

I wasn't surprised.

Allow me to briefly share exactly what I jotted down during the funeral. (I promise to expound on these ideas at a later date):

1. From death we learn about life.

2. You haven't lost a child, you've gained a guardian angel.

3. A touched heart is not a changed heart.

4. Sometimes you have to break a heart to change it.

5. Some souls don't come here to learn, but to teach.

The most powerful message came when Joaquin's father talked about how stunned and discouraged he and his wife were after the sonogram revealed his son's physical deformaties. They prayed to God saying, "Lord, this wasn't supposed to happen to us!"

Six years later, after loving and losing Joaquin, they have changed their prayer to "THANK YOU, Lord, for allowing this to happen to us."

Love is never wasted or lost. No matter how fleeting.

Even the most painfully fleeting moments of loving, and being loved in return, are abundant blessings.

I wrote down a quote by Winnie the Pooh, that was framed and displayed among all the family pictures at the funeral. It felt like a direct and personal (yet universal) message from Joaquin:

If ever there is a time when we're not together, there is something you must always remember; you are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think, but the most important thing is that, even if we're apart, I'll always be with you.

I am going to ask Joaquin's parents to donate some flannel in his honor to our magic baby quilt.

(By the way, I am still receiving fabric from mother's who have lost children and will continue posting photos throughout this week.)

The Magic Quilt's new owner

2011-04-09T21:08:00.000-07:00

One of the most exciting and touching moments of my magic quilt journey was on January 28th, when I received this email from a woman named Corrine.

I just wanted to let you know that this week, Lila and I passed along the quilt to its new owner, my great friend Kathy.

Corrine's sister is Stan's daughter-in-law--Stan, as in the first recipient of the magic quilt. Corrine's friend Kathy was pregnant at the time she received the quilt from Lila. Just six weeks after finding out she was pregnant, she also found out she had breast cancer. Imagine the shock.

She writes about it briefly, but poignantly on her blog, Bobblehead-ology. (She is a fantastic writer so go back and read the whole story. It's candid and compelling.) I also have her blog on my sidebar so you can check in regularly.

You can read the details about the passing of the quilt on Corrine's blog, Littlest Bird.

Kathy did make it through her pregnancy and delivered a beautiful, healthy baby boy. Her last update was on March 22, and I have been waiting on pins and needles for her cancer update.

After Kathy had her baby I received the following email from Lila (Stan's wife) about the magic quilt: (The CD she refers to in the email is a Mozart CD I sent to Stan along with the quilt. I will tell you that story tomorrow.)

Debbie,

I want to thank you for the wonder and comfort you brought into my life. I have found new strength in my Heavenly Father's love. It is so strong. I know I am not forgotten.

It was such a special experience to pass on the quilt. I gave her a journal to record her journey. I also printed out the stories of the quilt and Stan's story and put them in a binder and gave it to her. I told her it would be nice for her to add her story to the book when she passed on the quilt.

When I took the quilt to Kathy I wanted to give her the CD also but couldn't find it. Today when I was driving Stan's car, I turned on the CD and it was the one you gave him. That was the car he drove to work until just before he passed away. He was listening to your CD. Thank you for making his life richer.

Kathy had her baby last night (5 weeks early). She will now be able to get better treatment for her cancer.

Sincerely Lila Tolman

Lila, Corrine and Kathy

Is it cheesy to say out loud, so frankly and honestly, that I am so deeply humbled and grateful to watch this quilt move forward, spreading magic in it's wake?

Please keep Kathy in your prayers! We can help her overcome this challenge. I just know it!

............................................................................................................

Before I sign off I want to share a link to this beautiful post written today by my dear friend Pat, who I mentioned yesterday in my own post.

The passing . . .

2011-04-08T14:55:00.000-07:00

There is something about the song, Temporary Home, by Carrie Underwood that always chokes me up.

Maybe because we're all just passing through, and this is just a stop on the way to where we're going.

Some pass through so briefly, like baby Ella, and the twins, Emma and Taylor, and my little nephew, Matthew, and a million other tiny people who come and go in a flash, but leave a searing and lasting impact on those who were stricken by their love.

I can't help but think of my dear friend Pat, who almost adopted a little girl she'd been fostering. (Almost is such a brutal word, isn't it?) At the last minute she was required to pass that little girl back to her birth mother, leaving Pat empty handed. But not empty hearted. Even though she was devastated because she only got to provide a temporary home, I think that little girl will always be her daughter.

A few weeks ago, my own daughter went to The Festival of Colors and her shirt came back different. Messy different. It was splattered with all kinds of new colors, stained together forever. I bet even if I tried, I couldn't bleach those colors out. They are a permanent part of the shirt now.

A permanent beautiful part.

Isn't it weird how the passing through is so short for some and so long and drawn out for others. Take my Gigi, for instance, who had a stroke in Jan, then fell and broke her ankle in March, and who, being in and out of the hospital, an assisted living center, and two rehab facilities, collapsed into her bed yesterday after physical therapy saying, "Lordy, lordy, lordy. Just let me die already!"

No matter the hows, or the whys, or the whens of those passing through, they all have one thing in common--pain and sorrow. That's why the purpose of the magic quilt is to travel around and bring comfort and healing to those looking it in the face.

The first recipient was Stan. After Stan's death, his wife Lila kept the quilt for a few months and then, in a moment that sent chicken skin and goose bumps across my entire body, she passed it on.

I will tell you about that passing in tomorrow's post.

To be or not to be . . .

2011-03-02T16:57:00.000-08:00

That is not the question.

It appears that I have abandoned this project, and yet I think of it every single day. I think of it and on it. I pray on it too. And for it. And about it. Every. single. day. I have written a handful of posts that are at this moment sitting in my draft box, but for some perplexing reason I haven't pressed publish.

I know not why. Important things have happened and important people have passed on. Even the first Magic Quilt has been passed on.I have received stories and material, and I have made plans. And yet I have remained silent, stewing in my inability to do justice to the grief and sorrow so many people are experiencing.

Stewing stinks. As Meet the Robinson's would say, let's keep moving forward.

Onward! And upward! And Tally-ho!

And all that Jazz.

No. more. silence.

I do hereby declare that I will be posting every single day for the rest of April. (Can I revise that? I will be posting frequently from now on.) (That's better.)

See you tomorrow!

Grandmas are people too!

2011-01-28T21:13:00.000-08:00

The fabric keeps on a comin'! Woohoo! I love it. Keep spreading the word. I want to make at least 10 baby quilts in the next few months and start them on their journey to comfort those women around the globe who are mourning the loss of a child. I need flannel. To represent those who are lost. But never forgotten.

Look at this adorable flannel I received today! Have you seen anything happier? It's the happiest fabric on earth.

This fabric comes to us from this sweet, spunky woman named Marilyn Larsen. She is little Ladybug's grandma.

A few weeks ago I got an email from her which said:

I'm Amy's momma and Ella's grandma. (the Matriarchal Madwoman) I would LOVE to send you some flannel because I want other grandmas to know of the love and compassion I have for them. So often we focus on the mommy (as it should be), but the grandparents suffer as well. I never saw my husband cry so hard as when we were watching our daughter hold her baby as her little heart stopped beating. We suffer for the loss of a precious grandchild, but the pain of watching your child suffer is incredible.

I have spoken to several other grandmas who confirm this is TOO TRUE!

In the letter I received with the fabric, Marilyn says:

I'm donating this in honor of Ella Standage, who came into this world Dec 29, 2010 and passed a couple of hours later. I'm honored to be her grandma and hope that this bright happy fabric will comfort another grieving mommy.

I've given the fabric a big hug and am sending it with all my love and prayers for those parents AND grandparents who grieve for our lost little ones. I'm honored to know that I have a choice, perfect granddaughter who will watch over us always.

I just love it when people say things better than me.

Lady Bug, Lady Bug, Fly Away Home

2011-01-25T11:39:00.000-08:00

Remember Amy and Ella? My inspiration for the Sisterhood of the Magic Traveling Baby Quilt project?

Well, the project is underway and Amy has contributed some flannel fabric for the quilt to honor her little Ella.

Ladybug was Ella's nickname whenever Amy talked about her online, and even though Ella was born and died on the same day, there is sonographic evidence which captures her perfect little ladybug loveliness while she was alive:

Ella Standage

Born: December 29, 2010

Died: December 29, 2010

Safe Passage Ella, as you fly away home.

Emma and Taylor

2011-01-20T22:13:00.000-08:00

Here's a heartwrenching story:

I have received several emails asking for my address for the purpose of sending flannel for our traveling baby quilts, but today I received the first fabric in the mail.

It is in honor of conjoined twin girls. Emma and Taylor shared a heart. It's a beautiful metaphor, but the logistics of sharing a heart are quite a bit more complicated. This past August, at three years old, they underwent sugery to qualify them for heart transplants.

Neither one of them survived the surgery.

INCONSOLABLE!

This fabric was donated on behalf of the twins' mother, Mandy, by her sister-in-law, Sara.

Blue and purple were Emma and Taylor's favorite color.

This post goes out in memoriam to honor:

Emma and Taylor Bailey

Born: September 2o, 2006

Died: August 10, 2010

Be the comfort you want to see in the world

2011-01-13T07:52:00.001-08:00

Yesterday was Ella's funeral. I read her mother, Amy's words this morning and one line in particular struck me:

Hearts that have been broken wide open need to be filled up with something else.

How profound!

Maybe that's why it is so important to fill broken hearts with love and comfort and compassion, before they get filled up with bitterness, anger, and regret. Broken hearts are so darn vulnerable like that.

I was just made aware of this family who recently lost their 14-month-old son, Andrew. He died in his sleep of SIDS. It's a parent's worst nightmare! The thing we all secretly fret over and fear. Let us all go and give this family a hug!

I bet my sister will make another "for keeps" baby blanket like the one she made for Amy.

She just asked me yesterday to let her know if there is anyone else who needs one. Making baby blankets is such a productive way to grieve the loss of a child, don't you think? Just another way to fill up a heart that's been split wide open.

Hey, I just thought of a new motto!

Be the comfort you want to see in the world.

I'm surprised Gandhi didn't think of that. ;)

So, to summarize: If you have lost a child, or know of someone who has, please join hands with the rest of us to soften the blow for others who are experiencing the same loss. It can be an adult child, or a miscarriage, it mattereth not. It can even be a grandchild or a niece or nephew. If you loved a child that has shuffled off this mortal coil, I am asking you to donate a piece of flannel in his/her honor. In remembrance. In memoriam.

So how can you join hands with us?

1. Send a piece of flannel fabric which represents the child of honor. It can be a yard, or several yards, or simply a 12x12 square.

2. Include your child's name and birth date AND death date. (My sister says the death date is very important to her since her son died.)

3. The flannel will be cut into quilt blocks and sewn together with love, and with other quilt blocks honoring other children who have finished their earthly journey.

4. The child's name, birth date and death date will appear in the corner of his/her quilt block.

5. The baby quilt(s) (hopefully we will make dozens) will begin their journey as magic traveling quilts. Each person who receives the quilt will keep it as long as they need, until they feel ready to part with it and until they find someone else whose heart has split open wide and needs a filler. They will then pass it on. And so on and so on and so on.

6. A notebook, which my sister is at this very moment making, will accompany the quilt on it's magical journey. The notebook will be for writing letters, messages, quotes, or little love notes to the absent child. This will be cathartic for both the writer and the subsequent readers.

7. If you would like to include a love note to your child to be inserted into the magic notebook before it is sent out to the first recipient, please send it to me along with your fabric, or email it to ctddiaries@gmail.com.

And please raise your hand if you would like to help sew "for keeps" blankets, or help piece together the traveling magic baby quilts once we get rolling.

Let's get to work, peeps!

Amy and Ella (and the Sisterhood of the Traveling Magic Baby Quilt)

2011-01-11T11:14:00.000-08:00

I've been taking my dog for walks around the duck pond a few miles from our house lately, and while I walk, I think. Sometimes I think about life and sometimes I think about the ducks, who swim along the waters edge, trailing me, as I make my way around. They honk, honk, honk at me, as if to say "I'm starving! Did you bring me anything to eat?"

Ever since I fell in love with my dog, Lulu, I have developed this soft spot for animals. I can't stand to think of them hungry or neglected. Maybe that, coupled with the fact that I too know what it feels like to be hungry and needy, makes me feel enormously sorry for them.

So, of course, I've started bringing them food.

It's one of the benefits of pain and sorrow . . . once you feel it, you don't want others to feel it. And when you see them feeling it, you can't help but reach out and try to soften the blow.

But how do you soften the blow? With soft words?--I'm so sorry--soft prayers?--God be with you as you sorrow--soft blankets? --May I offer you a place to bury your head and cry. A place we have stitched together with love and compassion. You are not alone in your suffering. We have been there. We have all been there.

I don't know if it's possible to soften life's blow. All is know if we have to try.

Dawn, over at Momza's House sent me an email a week or so ago. She had written a beautiful post about a loss. This woman's loss. And this woman's loss. But mostly this woman's loss.

It's an old story about a mother. Who loses a baby. Amy is not the only person in the world to lose a baby--I could name dozens off the top of my head, and that's just who I know personally. I suspect you could name dozens too, but no matter how many mothers lose their babies, each story will always be immediate and deeply personal. And above all, agonizing.

For some reason Amy's loss has made me realize that we need to make a magic baby quilt. It's about time, huh!

My sister, Melanie lost a baby 12 years ago. His name was Matthew and he lived for 12 hours.

Her only son.

You could say that sometimes bad things happen. And you could draw little analogies to our challenges in life. It doesn't help when you're the one suffering, but for the sake of the reader I will draw a few little analogies to make a point.

A few weeks ago my daughter filled the car up with Diesel gas. It felt like a catastrophe at the time, but out of all the stress and worry we found something we've been looking for for a long, long time--a decent mechanic who we can trust 100% and who makes house calls and who only charges half the price of other mechanics. And who, when we said, "Thank you for your help," he said, "Thank you for the work."

And like last week when my hub lost the remote control . . . he was tearing the house apart, meanwhile my boys couldn't change the channel so guess what they were stuck watching? The 700 club with Pat Robertson. Seems like a bum deal for a 12-year-old boy, but you know what they said about it?

"I'm kinda glad dad lost the remote because we got to watch all these miracles of Jesus Christ."

There's a moral here. There's a definite moral here. When bad things happen we often find what we've been looking for. And sometimes when we lose control of a situation, we get to watch the miracles of Jesus Christ.

God blesses the broken road that leads us back to him.

Meanwhile, the broken road smarts something fierce at times, and we need to try to soften those blows.

So I told my sister about Amy and the first thing she said was, "I want to make her a quilt!" She already had a lot of material because she's been collecting flannel for a while now, hoping for an opportunity to bring comfort to those who are going through the same loss she did.

Below is the fabric she chose to make the blanket for Amy. She chose white, which represents purity and the heavenly place where Ella now resides.

This is the finished product, which I mailed off to Amy this morning.

My sister and I decided that we would send Amy a small receiving blanket--the one pictured above--that she could keep forever. Something just for her.

But we are also going to make a Magic Baby Quilt, which, when completed, we will send to Amy to kick off our Sisterhood of the Traveling Magic Baby Quilt project. She will keep the quilt as long as she needs to, until she finds the next recipient--someone going through the same loss--and then she will pass the Magic Baby Quilt along.

And so on and so on and so on.

The magic will be grow stronger every time a mother receives the blanket and passes it on.

Along with the Magic Baby Quilt, there will be a Magic Baby Book. We will call it something like Letters to Heaven. Each mother who receives the notebook will write the name of her child in the book, along with a letter to her child. After a while, the book will be filled with letters to Heaven, which will hopefully be cathartic and bring comfort to many mourning mothers.

Questions?

How will the quilt be made? What will it look like? I was just getting to that.

The quilt will be made up of flannel fabric sent in by you. If you've lost a baby, or even an adult child, I am asking for you to send me flannel fabric--as much or as little as you like--which represents your child, along with your child's full name and birth date. We will cut the fabric into quilt blocks in honor of your child. We will then print your child's name and birth date onto clear iron-on decals and iron it into the corner of their quilt block(s).

I am thinking big. I want a lot of material so we can get a lot of baby quilts circulating.

I'm soliciting material from people I know who have lost a child, but if you've lost a child or know someone who has, please spread the word and join our efforts.

If you would like to include a letter to your child before the magic book is delivered to Amy, please email the letter to me at ctddiaries@gmail.com. You can also send the letters snail mail. Email me for my address.

Look to it, peeps!

P.s. To keep updated on Amy's story, you can find her on my sidebar at My Infernal Journal.

Dollars and blankets and quilts, oh MY!

2010-12-18T22:58:00.000-08:00

Look what my boys did today:

They wrote a note to Matthew Blanchard on their own hand made cards and slipped him $1. Even Lulu did it, cept she slipped him a $5.

Even my twin's friend, who was here at the time, pulled a $1 out of his pocket and said, "Can I do it too?"

How sweet it was.

And then I sent him a magic blanket.

So excited. Just can't hide it.

You can still join the dollar drive and send $1 to Matthew at 8444 Brody Marsh Ave/Las Vegas, Nevada/89143. Just think, if 1,000 people send a dollar, Matthew will have smiled 1,ooo times. And I've heard somewhere that 1,ooo smiles are as powerful as pixie dust.

Click here if you want to find out more about Matthew.

If you read my post yesterday on my CTD Diaries, you'll also know that I made and delivered three more magic blankets to three little boys who have a very sick daddy. You can read all about it and see photographic evidence here.

And you can read about the sick daddy here.

If you are interested in banging out some magic blankets yourself, let me just say it's SOOO dang easy. All you need is 1 yard of fleece, preferably no-pill because it's so forgiving, and 1/4 yard of a coordinating solid color to tie up the loose ends.

Lay the fleece out flat and on both ends cut strips--1 inch wide and 5 inches long--all the way across each end of the blanket.

Next cut 1 inch wide, 5 inch long strips out of the solid coordinating color.

Tie a solid strip around each strip (aka loose end) on the blanket.

Viola! You're done!

And finally, guess what? Kritta's done it again. She made another Magic Quilt with all the original fabric contributed by the people. And for the people. And of the people.

Ain't it gorgeous!? Mahalo, Kritta.

I'll be back to expound very soon, so don't touch that dial.

Magical Money for Matthew

2010-12-07T13:10:00.001-08:00

I need to spew forth a Magic Quilt update before I explode into a thousand tiny pieces. So many, many things to share, which I have neglected to share because I've been pounding the pavement trying to win myself a job.

Win or lose, this job race helped refuel my Magic Quilt fire. Plus I've made a few new friends and reconnected with a few old friends who have turned out to be Magic Quilt muses.

One of them is Dana. I only recently met her but she's been a huge supporter of my SAM-e Good Mood Blogger gig efforts and organized a voting tree with 60 of her most amazing friends.

Turns out she also makes fleece quilts. For friends. In need. (That's probably why she has so many amazing friends.) She has made 45 quilts within the last two years.

Her son made 100 fleece lap blankets for his Eagle project and donated them to the Huntsman Cancer Institute. (Apples don't fall far from their trees.)

(Hmmm . . . my son needs a great idea for his Eagle project too . . .)

Dana got her inspiration for the fleece blankets when her own world was tipped by a medical condition.

After years of medical challenges her husband was diagnosed with Amyloidosis. It's not cancer, but he had to go through Chemotherapy in 2008, plus undergo a stem cell transplant. While in the hospital Dana was given a little fleece blanket, which she and her husband kept on their laps for a month as they went through one of the most difficult challenges of their lives.

Since then Dana has been spreading comfort and cheer to friends in need in the form of what I like to call magic fleece quilts. The quilts are a little different than the blankets. They are twice the size of the blankets and have two layers of fleece, plus batting.

I went to her house last week to go shopping for fleece and learn how to make the quilts and guess what? She surprised me with a quilt of my very own. Me!

And guess what else? My fleece quilt has a twin.

These hands belong to Dana's friend and neighbor who is just like me. A mom. A wife. A daughter. A friend. The only difference is she has a brain tumor and she is almost done with her mission here on earth.

I've always wanted a twin and am deeply honored to share her magic fleece quilt. I will do my best to live up to the responsibility I feel to create a place of refuge and bring comfort to those who are suffering, sad and scared.

And GOSH DARNIT, there are too too many.

We have a lot of work to do.

So Dana took me shopping for fleece at Joann's Fabric. We filled two carts.

I've always said that addiction is BAD, unless you're addicted to oatmeal or IKEA furniture, but fleece is SUPER addicting. If you HAVE to get addicted to something, fleece is a good choice.

We picked out this fabric for a little boy named Matthew Blanchard.

He loves sports, but he can't play them anymore because he contracted a virus which led to chronic Lymphocytic Myocarditis.

Don't you hate big words that make you sick? It's just wrong. And it's just wrong that a 12-year-old boy can't play sports. I have two 12-year-old boys who love sports so I know what I'm talking about.

DeNae Handy, over at My Real Life was Backordered created a foundation for Matthew because not only can big words make you sick, they can make you poor too.

If you click on this button, you can grab a button of your own and post it on your blog. And so on and so on and so on. Plus you can read all about Matthew and make a donation on his behalf. (Don't tell my husband, but I made one when I only had $75 in my bank account.)

Dana gave me another good idea--something she did a few years ago for a friend who's little boy, Spencer got cancer. Yes, she made him a magic fleece quilt . . .

but she also started a dollar drive for him--she told all of her friends to slip $1 into an envelope and send it to Spencer.

Imagine a young, sick boy getting all of these letters in the mail.

And then imagine him opening each envelope and finding a $1 bill. It would be just like Harry Potter. (I bet that's where J.K. Rowlings got the idea.)

They would be like magic dollars.

I was thinking we could do that for Matthew.

It would be like magical money. For Matthew. I bet that would really brighten his Christmas season.

Okay, so you know how you're busy stuffing envelopes with Christmas cards right now? Would you mind adding Matthew Blanchard to your list? It will only take a sec to slip a $1 bill into it.

And tell all of your friends, okay.

His address is:

Matthew Blanchard

8444 Brody Marsh Ave.

Las Vegas, NV 89143

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

By the way, Spencer is completely cancer free now. He's been cured!

Just sayin'.

A moment of silence, and the 2nd magic quilt

2010-10-10T17:33:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I think the most magical thing about The Magic Quilt are the relationships forged through the suffering and the compassion. The reaching in and the reaching out. I feel so thankful to be making new magic connections on a regular basis, and it only strenghtens my resolve to reach further and dig deeper. One thing I've learned from this is that EVERYONE has a story. And everyone needs a story. Please share yours and help us heal the world, one quilt at at time.

When I first started this project I wanted the magic to save people. Make them all better. Now I see that people don't need to be saved. They need to be comforted. We cannot decide who lives or dies, but we can decide to lend a hand in carrying the burdens and easing the suffering of those who live and die.

The magic quilt has exceeded my expectations by every stretch of my imagination. I never dreamed it would come to mean so much to so many so quickly. If you're new to this blog and don't know the story of Stan and Lila, this post and this post will help you understand them better.

I am deeply honored that I was allowed to be a small part of their journey. MAHALO!

Allow me to share an email I received after Stan's passing from a girl named Corinne, who knows Stan and Lila.

.................................................................................

I need you to know how much that quilt meant to Lila and Stan. When I first arrived at their home, Stan had passed about an hour earlier. The quilt was still on him, then, and was on him until the funeral home came and my husband and Tom helped them carry him to the car. Lila showed me different parts of it, told the stories and showed me, in quiet whispers, the names that had been sewn into it. OH the spirit was there. I am telling you. THANK YOU for the balm you handed to my friends.

Corinne

.................................................................................

I also found this beautiful poem/post on Corrine's blog Littlest Bird.

in the home where someone has passed away

after a long illness,

there is a blanket of peace.

it is made by the weight of an amazing life lived,

and by the strength of the people who

stood by bedsides

held hands

stroked foreheads

administered relief

pulled up blankets

taped cheerfully drawn pictures on the wall

told stories

and remembered.

remembered and remembered about life

before cancer.

hugs are tighter, then, in that home,

where the loved one is lying still on his bed,

his spirit released from the prison of his

ailing body.

it's as spiritual as the feeling in the temple, or the most

sacred place you can imagine.

feelings are raw but that rawness is absorbed

in a love that chimes with selflessness.

and when you look into the eyes of the woman who has lost

her companion of thirty-five years,

you KNOW

you KNOW

that God was watching over her

as she helped her husband

pass from this life

to the next

and that He will continue to be with her

as she waits to be with him

again.

....................................................................................................................

And finally I want to show you the 2nd magic quilt, thanks to April from Springrose Journals. She made a mini magic quilt for a young girl named Riley who was recently diagnosed with stage four spinal cancer. I really love this quilt because it is so happy. So very happy. And cheery. Springrose, did you put Mighty Man Adam's fuzzy blanket on the back?

Springrose! This whole design made my eyeballs completely sweaty! MAHALO Springrose! BIG HUGS! Look at me surrounded by Don and Stan and Lila and Mighty Man Adam. That's the closest I've ever felt to being queen for a day. ;)

Aloha Oe

2010-10-08T11:14:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, October 7th, our first Magic Quilt recipient, Stan completed his journey here on earth and returned home.

The day before he passed Amanda sent me an email that poured chicken soup all over my soul. I printed it and shared with all of my kids before they went to bed. I have shared it below. When I awoke the next morning there was another email waiting for me from Amanda. This time telling me that Stan was done with his suffering.

I can't really describe how I feel to have been apart of this process in some small way. I feel completely honored that the Magic Quilt led me to Stan and Lila. They are two of the most beautiful people I have ever met.

Aloha Oe Stan, safe passage.

And please remember your promise to say hello to my dad for me.
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Email from Amanda:

I just wanted to take a minute and share something with you. I had a prompting to stop in to see Stan and Lila today, then I ignored it. I drove right past their street and my chest felt like someone just sat on me and I felt as if I were nearly possessed, as I didn't feel like myself. I promptly made a u-turn at the very next light, just a few hundred yards past their street. I instantly felt calm and knew that I shouldn't have talked myself out of following that initial prompting.

When I knocked on the door, Lila greeted me with the most welcoming smile. She is so beautiful and sweet and precious and there are not enough adjectives to begin to describe how amazing she is. She explained that her sister came to stay with her and how grateful she was that she arrived on Monday because Stan fell Tuesday night and she could not get him up alone. She then asked me to go see Stan. I declined, the 4 kids were screaming in the car. She said, "Just go hold his hand." How could I refuse?

I knew immediately that things weren't good, I mean, we've known the cancer was terminal, we've known he would get to each of these stages, but reading it, thinking it, even hearing it doesn't prepare you for seeing it. I couldn't help the tears that filled my eyes and my heart wept, also. Lila stood over him so lovingly, smiling constantly and adoring another opportunity to gaze upon him. I called his name, placed my hand upon his hand and looked into his peaceful eyes.

He can no longer talk and it's been 3 or 4 days since he's had any type of nourishment. His time left here is short, the veil is certainly thin. However sad that reality may seem to us, he is between two worlds and has the comfort of sight beyond ours. He is okay, he is at peace. Stan and Lila's sons were planning to come in for the weekend, but Lila had encouraged them to change their plans as Stan may not make it to the weekend. Lila is doing better than I could ever hope to be in a situation such as hers. She continues to tell people how graceful Stan has gone through all of this, but really she has shown tremendous grace, as well. And the love she showers him with and the attention she pours into him allows him to be so graceful during this truly difficult time.

Let me step back a few paces to when Lila introduced me to her sister. She said, "This is Amanda, you know Amanda...." Her sister teared up and rushed to my side to hug me and through all the tears and arms she said, "Thank you." She was thanking me for the Magic Quilt project. The quilt has made a tremendous impact on this family. Lila went on to explain to me that Stan always has the quilt with him. When he was able to sit in his chair, the quilt came with him. When he went to bed, the quilt traveled there, too. I know the quilt is seeing the beginning of its innumerable days of comforting others. And as this first chapter of the quilt's life is coming to a close, I believe the second chapter may open while being wrapped around Lila's shoulders in the weeks to come. There is love in every square of fabric and blessings in every stitch of its magical seams. Once again, I cannot thank you enough for birthing this project and allowing so many of us to share in your dream of sending magical love around the world. I wish everyone could feel the magic quilt in action, it is a beautiful thing!

With Love,

Amanda

GROUP HUG

2010-09-24T08:38:00.000-07:00

I've been reading Lila's blog with updates on Stan today, and sweet Springrose wrote a beautiful comment of comfort in reply to yesterday's post. You must go read it.

Springrose is making two magic quilts, one for a child and one for an adult. The child is a four year old girl in her ward who was diagnosed with stage 4 spinal cancer last night.

Let us all keep her family in our prayers. What devastating news.

She immediately started on the quilt and will finish it and deliver it to the hospital today.

I stand all amazed.

I love this magic quilt project and feel so grateful for all of you who have donated fabric, time, stories and support to it. I can feel the comfort growing and I hope someday it will bring comfort to many many many more.

MAHALO!

LY everyone!

GROUP HUG!

P.S There are more stories on the way.

Super Grover and Mighty Man Adam

2010-09-04T19:15:00.000-07:00

Aloha my magic quilt peeps. I am so excited (and touched) today because Stan and Lila, the first recipients of the first magic quilt, sent fabric to Springrose to include in the second magic quilt.

Doesn't it just give you chicken skin?

The blue fabric represents their four sons and the striped fabric is cut from one of Stan's shirts. Stan turned 6o years old last week. Read this short and simple, but sweet post about how Lila celebrated with him.

I'm also extremely excited (and extremely touched) by our next contribution. It's from Janna of Mighty Man Adam and Susan, from Susan's Scribble. I met Susan through Melanie J. at the LDS Storymaker's Conference last May. We sat by each other at dinner and instantly connected because she's a darling, and, if I'm not mistaken, she is a soon-to-be-published-author.

Meet Adam, Susan's nephew:

Susan wrote a post about him entitled Mighty Man Adam. I asked her if I could share the story with my magic quilt peeps and she immediately said YES and then asked her sister-in-law, Janna about donating some fabric for our 2nd magic quilt. I received the following email from Janna yesterday:

I'm touched by what you are doing. It was these acts of kindness that really helped us not feel so alone. The fact that you are creating a gift with meaning is really something special. I'm excited to be apart of it. I told Adam that we had to send part of (one of the three) his blanket and I asked him to choose which one it would be. I told him we are going to send it to a lady who is going to use it to make a nice, warm blanket for sick kiddos or grown-ups. He is really excited to send it to you!

Here's some of the story. Adam was Dx'd with Leukemia in March 2008. I won't go in to much detail simply because Susan covered it very well. We were in treatment for 5 1/2 months, having received five rounds of chemotherapy. Because of the nature of his illness, Adam was not able to go home right after he received his chemo. He could not get shots that would help him regenerate white blood cells (other kids were able to do that and them go home within a few days) because his cancer was his white blood cells. Anyway, we were there for what seemed like forever. Finally, we were discharged for good in September 2008 and sent home with a follow-up plan. When we left, I knew we had not seen the last of the leukemia and he was most likely going to relapse. At first, I tried to dismiss it as paranoia, but the feeling never went away. So when he developed a fever with no other symptoms in June of 2009, I immediately took him to the doc for a CBC. They called me that night with a white blood cell count of 57,000. I knew he had relapsed.

Between the first and second cycles of treatment, I took Adam to Target one day to find a blanket of his own. He had been bugging his older brother a lot by stealing his all the time. As we were walking through the bedding aisle, Adam pointed to the red fuzzy blanket and said, "Super Grover covers" (he was just barely two). I guess it looked like the cape that Super Grover wears and he liked that. So we bought it. When he relapsed and we were back in the hospital, I quickly learned that one blanket was not enough. He would throw up on it or get it messy when changing his diaper, etc. So I went back to target and bought two more red ones and a green one. Every time my husband and I would switch places, I would bring in the clean ones, and would take the dirty ones home when I left. During the second course of treatment, Adam was never without his "Super Grover covers". They went everywhere with him–to surgery, to the cafeteria, to the playroom... Next to myself, these blankets were his one consolation.

I decided to send you a part of one as our contribution. Hopefully, it will be what you need. I am also including a picture of Adam with his "Super Grover covers" at the beginning of the second course of treatment. I thought this one was appropriate because it shows the blanket "in action", so to speak.

Janna

I am also including Susan's Story below. Mahalo Susan and Janna. And much love and aloha to Adam.

When my brother and sister-in-law brought Adam down to the farm for the first time, when he was tiny and brand new, I remember thinking what an adorable baby he was. He had a dimple and was so goodnatured. I wanted to hold him lots, and I did. As he grew he was still enchanting and darling. But then things changed. He wasn't so good natured anymore--he cried and whined and kept them up at night, and I think his mom wondered what had happened to her angel. Months passed and it got worse. And worse. And worse and worse. The weekend before their world was flipped upside down, my whole family was down at the farm. I can't remember much about the weekend. I don't even know why we were there. I only remember that Adam was miserable. His mom said he wouldn't walk, and he'd been that way for a few weeks. She or my brother had to carry him everywhere. He didn't want any of us to hold him, only her. And he was washed out, lethargic and running a low grade fever. Something was definitely wrong. His mom had been taking him to specialists for months, trying to figure this thing out, but no one could.

I think my sister-in-law decided she'd had enough, and she took matters into her own hands. Something had been nagging at her for so long, but she was feeling helpless, I think. So she turned to the internet. One by one she googled his symptoms (brilliant girl) and slowly her nagging turned to panic. Every search had one scenario in common. Leukemia. And then she knew.

She calls my brother on the phone to tell him. Adam is flown by helicopter to the hospital.

I'm sitting at home, making dinner and the phone rings. It's brother Number Three. Usually he's so cheery when he calls and sings out one of his usual greetings like "Hey, Suzie Boozie." But this time he was solemn. He cuts right to the point. "They found out what's wrong with Adam. He has leukemia."

A big gasp and then "No," escapes my lungs. And then I'm crying because I know. I know what's coming. Fear. Fear like they've never experienced. This is not the first time I've seen cancer first hand. The last time, it took my brother in law who wasn't yet thirty, leaving my sister in law widowed with three kids. Number 3 tells me that Brother Number 1 met them at the hospital (I've never been so glad they live kind of close) and he said they were not doing well. I can picture them crumbling, terrified. I'll be honest--I wonder what they'll do if Adam doesn't make it, and then I shove that thought out of my head. I can't even think it. I know how much they love him, because I'm a mom, and I can't stand to even think what that would be like for them. I can't stand to think of my brother and his wife sobbing in that hospital while I stand there and cook for my three healthy kids. And I'm too far away to help them. And I hope they know how much I love them. It's not fair.

I gather my kids and my husband and I tell them the news. My kids prayed everyday for their cousin-probably five times a day. When we visited Adam a few months back my second son is asked to give the blessing on the food. He's only six so his prayers are pretty much the same every time. He has a list he's ticking off in his head. Please help Dad to graduate. Help mom to get her book published. Help us to be a forever family. And in this case, please bless the food. He opens his mouth to say one last thing and I hold my breath. Please don't let Adam die. My son doesn't even blink. He doesn't realize he just said that in front of Adam and his family. My eyes fly open and flash to my sister in law. Her eyes are glistening and she thanks Cole. She is touched. I exhale.

Back to the story.

Adam went through chemo. His older brother was tested as a bone marrow donor, and we all prayed he would be a match since he had the best chance. He wasn't a match. We all volunteered to be tested and my sister in law said we could, but the chances of any of us being a match were very slim. They move into the Ronald McDonald house next to the hospital (with a four year old in tow) for six months, switching off to be with Adam every couple of days. Can you even imagine what it would be like to not leave the hospital for more than a handful of days in that entire time? But then it's finally over and they return home. But the fear doesn't leave and less than a year later, the leukemia returns.

I believe I was making dinner again when I got that call. My mom called that time. She was steady as always, not crying, because she almost never cries in public. All her crying is done in private. But not me. I burst into tears. This time all my kids are out riding bikes in the neighborhood, except for my baby who's somewhere near my feet.

We get off the phone and I'm wondering why I don't feel a crazy amount of panic. Leukemia returning for the second time is a terrible scenario. I squat down and my head falls to my hands. Addy crawls into my lap and I hug her, and then I pray long and hard and fervently. I'm comforted knowing the rest of my family has to be on their knees at that same moment.

I go back to finish dinner and somewhere between serving and eating, I get the craziest good feeling inside. He's going to be okay! And not just okay. He's going to live. He's going to make it! I just knew it. Somehow this kid was going to beat this thing. So I call my sis-in-law and I say, "I hope this doesn't make you mad (you know, since I don't like to tell people I just got revelation for them. I don't make a practice of that kind of thing and can't stand it when other people do that to me) but I have this really good feeling that he's going to be okay." I don't know what I thought--that maybe she would collapse with relief, as if my words were gospel truth. But that's not what happened. I could hear her choking up and she says, "Well, I wish I had that feeling but I don't. Right now I'm just really, really mad at Heavenly Father." And can you blame her? Not only was this child sick and let's face it, dying, but they had also recently found out that their oldest son had Aspergers, a form of high functioning Autism. I can only imagine how picked on she was feeling. I mean that--I could only imagine. I couldn't possibly begin to understand. But I knew the Savior could, and I was praying she'd let Him help her.

Adam starts chemo and they are back at the routine. The doctor has told my brother and sis-in-law that there is no possibility that they could be matches for Adam for the bone marrow transplant he needs to have, but on a whim they decide to be tested anyway.

Here's the Miracle.

His mom is a 100% perfect match in every single way. I can't get into all the ways that this is just complete and total craziness, but it is. The doctor said is was higher odds than winning the Super ball lottery. Maybe they can comment below and explain the coolness of it because I don't think I can get you to grasp just what a miracle that is. Basically, this had to have been worked out generations ago, for my brother and the girl he was going to marry someday to have just the right genetics that she would be this match.

A light bulb goes off in my brain, and I know that that feeling I had was because of this. It was Heavenly Father showing us that his hand is in everything, and over everyone. How can I ever question that He is there? He is watching. He loves us so much and cares for us so much.

Just minutes ago, I found out that Adam got his one year bone marrow aspiration results back, and guess what? His bone marrow is 100% donor cells and 0% cancer. One year was the time limit the doctor gave for him to be considered cured. I'm sure Brother and Sister-in-law are afraid to let the word 'cured' squeak out of their lips lest they jinx him, and I don't blame them. But I'm hoping you'll join with me the next time you kneel down to pray and just send Him a little thank you for this blessing.

I didn't tell you this to make you think that I believe my family deserves some special miracle when others haven't received such a blessing. We are just normal people who make mistakes, just like everyone else. People die from cancer, heart disease, car accidents and thousands of other things every single day. I'm also aware that some trials are worse than death. And that some just plain hurt. Dealing with addictions of any kind, or not being able to get pregnant when you so desperately want a baby, or getting pregnant but then losing that baby or a thousand other ways that our hearts ache for our plans unraveled. I'm very aware of that, and I ache for my friends and family when these things happen. We've had some of our own pains. I only shared this with you because sometimes it's hard to see past all the hurt and sorrow and trials and exhaustion that can accompany this trial we call Life. And when we feel our lowest I hope we can all remember that He is there. He has a plan. Sometimes His plan intertwines with our own wishes, and sometimes it doesn't. Sometimes someone else can stick their foot out and trip up that plan, and wreck something that was supposed to be beautiful and perfect. But sometimes. Sometimes, He gives us a little glimmer of His power and His love and we are reminded that there is more to all of this than what we can see right now.

It may not feel like it sometimes, but God really is over All.

Adam, you are a Mighty, Mighty Man. And you will forever be my hero.

Magic and Aloha

2010-08-28T21:35:00.000-07:00

I'm excited to announce another contribution to our 2nd magic quilt. This one is from the soon-to-be author, Donald J. Cary whose first book, Bumpy Landings is coming out in January. Don grew up in Laie, Hawaii (WOOHOO)! He should be one of my homies from the hood but I didn't really know him in Hawaii, I only knew of him. Now, thanks to blogging, I'm proud to call him a friend.

MUCH MAHALO Don, for sharing.

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Given the circumstances, a trip to Hawaii seemed like a very selfish move. My wife was living half a continent away so she could get medical treatment, and my two young girls were finishing their last year of school in Utah before we were to sell the house and move away from our vital support network of family and friends.

Yet given the circumstances, a touch of selfishness was just what I needed. And twentieth high school reunions only come once in a lifetime. So with assurances from both heaven and earth that my loved ones would be well taken care of in my absence, I boarded a plane for Honolulu.

Near the top of my list was the task to find an Aloha shirt or two – a classy one like the kind I’d grown up with. After searching high and low, I found two.

My contribution to the Magic Quilt is one of them.

The months that followed this short, personal vacation were by far the toughest of my life. With any luck the future won’t hold any even remotely that hard.

My wife was sick, and had been for years. We didn’t know what was wrong, other than she had a list of symptoms as long as all of our arms, and the doctors couldn’t find anything in her battery of tests. Headaches, tremors, neuropathy, and brain fog joined fatigue, sensitivity to everyday chemicals, and drastic, unexplained weight loss. The best we could do was find costly, time-consuming band-aids that would slow the symptoms, but solid answers were few and far between.

My role in this adventure was to be Superman. Hold down a job, take care of two small children, help my wife find answers, and keep the family afloat. The only way I could see to do this was to sell our dream home, pay off our six-digit medical debt, and move our family to a Texas where my wife had found some promising treatments.

I wore this shirt as I packed the house, loaded the moving truck, and drove to Texas. I wore it to hundreds of appointments with dozens of different doctors. I wore it while trying desperately to provide two little girls a normal life amidst utterly insane circumstances. I wore it to writing conferences where I tried to find a little bit of normal for myself.

I wore it to the hospital where my wife lay dying of malnutrition, despite bottle after bottle of nutrients being pumped into her veins. I wore this shirt as I pleaded with heaven to spare her life – if not for me, then for our children.

And I wore it when those prayers were answered.

I wore it to the doctor who figured out why my wife couldn’t digest her food, and found the one enzyme that would work for her. I wore it to the doctor who diagnosed our whole family as having Lyme disease.

I wore it as I watched my wife gain dozens of pounds. I wore it as I helped her move home, and later join us on our first family vacation in years.

I wore it until the edges tattered and the seams ripped out and I couldn’t wear it any more.

I wore it until only the magic was left. The magic, and the Aloha.

And now I’m sending it to you, so the magic can help someone else.

God bless you.

Don Carey

The Magic Wand

2010-08-27T10:56:00.000-07:00

I posted this on my Crash Test Dummy blog last week and I wanted to re-post it here for my Magic Quilt supporters.

I also wanted to post a link to a powerful story From Susan Scribble. She said we could include it in our Magic Quilt book and she's going to send fabric. YAY! I will post the story in full as soon as I get photos of the fabric. If you want a sneak peak click on the following link: Mighty Man Adam

Okay, on the my re-post:
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Last Sunday I laid in the room in the house where my great grandmother Constance was born over 100 years ago. I read the beautiful history her daughter, my grandmother, wrote about her and her family and I got choked up. These are my people, I thought.

I have people.

Constance is one of my people. She has a mysteriously tragic story, which I will tell sometime. She did something that caused deep shame to her family and had an indelible effect on her posterity. But she is mine. I come from her. And I am honored to have her as my people.

I wish I could hug her right now and tell her that all love is a blessing, even if it's short lived. And that no love is wasted, even if it's ill-timed.

I hope she saw it that way when she was alive, but I'll never know.

This post is not about my great grandmother. This post is about April from Springrose Journals, who is making the 2nd magic quilt. She needs our help.

Springrose didn't do anything shameful, but I wish I could hug her too and tell her that all love is a blessing, even if it's short lived. And that no love is wasted, even if it's ill-timed.

Springrose just lost a baby. It's the second pregnancy that has ended in a miscarriage in the past year and a half. I was hoping the magic quilt would miraculously keep her baby growing, but it was not to be. So now she needs our magic more than ever. She needs more fabric to finish the quilt because she is anxious to work and get her mind off her grief.

Stan and Lila (the recipients of the first magic quilt) are sending her fabric as we speak. My MIL is donating fabric as well, and I brought home a quilted shower curtain from my aunt and pillow cases from my grandmother.

Please, if you have a story of healing or faith or inspiration or comfort or joy, (and who doesn't) and you have a piece of fabric which either represents that story or which you actually wore or used, please send it to April so she can make some magic and experience comfort from you.

Please, please, pretty please. Dummies with stone cold hearts don't usually beg but here I am on hands and knees, because not only is one of our friends in need of a little magic, but there is a whole world in need of a little magic.

Let's be the wand.

Here's a poignant comment on my Magic Quilt blog from Aunt Claudia:

Isn't this what God does with our lives? Takes all the scraps in our journey and sews them together with strength, love and healing.

Did I already say let's be the wand?

I know my great grandmother Constance would give Springrose a hug too. There was no written record of her life, but at her funeral her bishop said, "Whenever I had to call upon the Relief Society to aid me in giving service to those in need of help, Sister Connie was always the first one to come forth."

See why I'm so honored to have her as my people?

In her scrapbook two words, "my favorite" were written next to this poem:

The Holy Supper is kept, indeed

In whatso we share with another's need;

Not what we give, but what we share,--

For the gift without the giver is bare;

Who gives himself with his alms feeds three,

Himself, his hungering neighbor and me.

(From The Vision of Sir Launfal).

If you want to send fabric, email me for the address. MAHALO!

Priceless!

2010-08-03T20:57:00.000-07:00

Today was a very humbling day for me because I got to meet the first recipient of the magic quilt, Stan Tolman and his wife, Lila.

It was amazing.

I was already verklempt before I met them because I had read their latest blog update and seen this photo of Stan with his grand kids snuggled up in the magic quilt.

Priceless!

That's how I would describe the sensation--the charge of emotion that blew through me. Let's just say my eyes started sweating at the sight of it.

After all of our dreaming and planning and sharing and sewing . . . and now the quilt is REAL. It's REALLY REAL. And it's traveling around doing what it was made to do, spreading love and bringing comfort to those in need.

Does anyone else feel like a group hug is in order?

Stan has gall bladder cancer. It's rare. And it's hard to treat. In fact, none of the treatments have worked and Stan and his family have decided to stop with the medical procedures and enjoy life. After they decided to quit treatment they began traveling across the country to visit their family. They see it not as the end, but as a new beginning.

SNIFF!

So Stan received the magic quilt the night before they embarked on their final journey together, and he has been taking it with him and sharing it's message. Lila says on her blog:

I would like everyone who was involved in this magic to know how much it has touched our lives and the lives of all of those who love Stan.

GET THIS! After stopping in Nauvoo and Mt. Rushmore, they were driving past Martin's Cove on Friday morning and decided to stop. Lila says:

It was too early for the buildings to be open so we started the two-mile walk to the cove. We took it slow and stopped at the benches to admire the view and rest. Stan was getting very tired but we could see a little cabin ahead and pushed on. The cabin was manned by 3 senior missionaries. Stan sat on the bench and asked them if this was the cove. When they said that it was a mile farther up the trail you could see the pain on his face because he wanted so much to see the cove, but he knew he could go no father. I explained to the missionaries his condition and his desire. One of the sisters went into the cabin. She used a walk-e-talkie to ask them to send a rover up to pick up Stan. A wonderful missionary drove us up to the cove. At the cove he explained what happened there and told us we could take all the time we wanted. The spirit was so strong as we held onto each other and looked at the spot where so many had given so much. I couldn’t stop crying. Their faith was so strong and even though their trials were great, they were never alone. As we drove back down I looked out across the mountains and saw a handcart company coming in. It was about a mile long of youth and leaders experiencing their own faith promoting experiences.

Okay that mile-long handcart company having their own faith promoting experiences . . . that was ME and MY stake! Lila saw MY handcart company, and she was right, there were several faith promoting experiences going on.

How crazy cool is that?

Lila goes on to say:

Friday night we were in the arms of our sweet little grandchildren. Stan wanted them all to see the 'magic quilt'. As I told them the story of the quilt I could see Stan lovingly rub his hand over the quilt. This is when I knew how much the quilt meant to him.

This alone makes it worth all the effort, but I know this is just the beginning. I can feel the momentum. I know that the more people the magic quilt touches and comforts the more power and comfort it will be able to bring to those who need it.

You get me?

So today, not only did I get to meet Stan and Lila . . .

I also got to meet two of their sons, one daughter-in-law, and three of their grand kids.

Did I already say it was amazing? Because it WAS amazing.

First of all, they are all gorgeous--the whole lot of them. Seriously, the look good in their photos, but double that in real life. Stan is so dang handsome. And Lila is muy bonita. (Their offspring were kinda easy on the eyes as well.)

Second of all, they are shiny people. As Lenny Kravitz would say, their eyes could light the world on fire.

We talked for a while and got acquainted and I told them how the magic quilt got started and told them about some of the quilt blocks and about Kritta finally being able to get pregnant after she started the quilt and how she felt the quilt really was magic because it got her through her high risk pregnancy safe and sound.

But I forgot to tell him why I also gave him a Mozart CD along with the quilt. I haven't told you guys that yet either. I promise to tell that story soon.

Lila told me that once they accepted Stan's condition she began praying that he wouldn't have to suffer. She prayed it over and over, but then one day she received an answer in the form of a voice in her head saying in effect, "why would want to take these learning lessons away from him?"

That made me cry because, darnit, isn't it just the truth? Since I've been playing pioneer woman as of late, I've been thinking a lot about the lessons that come from our struggles.

One of my favorite parts of the trek was the hardest part of the trek--the woman's pull, where the women had to push/pull their handcarts up a steep, sandy hill without any help from the men. It was super tough, but I felt close to the other four girls in my handcart family in a way you only feel close to people you go through struggles with. I loved them. Whole heartedly.

And isn't love all you really need?

Love is the magic.

While we were pulling our handcarts up the hill, the men had to stand in silence, lined up along the trail with their hats over their hearts. My husband said later how much he wanted to step in and push our handcart, but he wasn't allowed.

I guess sometimes we just have to stand by and watch those we love receive their lessons.

But you know what? When I started up the hill and saw all the men standing in silence on either side of the trail I just knew I could do it. Their energy! It was powerful! To me they represented all those who have passed on before us, who are silently cheering us on along the sidelines. Wanting us to make it to the top of our own challenges.

I wish I had told Stan about the day my twins were born. About how I was panicking because one of the twins had dropped into the birth canal way too soon, at only 29 weeks. My husband laid his hands on me and gave me a blessing and I was instantly calm.

"It's okay," I told him. "They aren't going to be born today."

But I had mistaken my instant peace for the answer I wanted to hear. While I didn't get what I wanted, and what I thought was best at the time, I got something better. I got a glimpse into the world beyond and while I was being rushed into an emergency c-section I could see that the room was completely full of angels, excited and cheering me on, so to speak. Two of them, a man and a woman, were physically touching me and helping me through each contraction.

I know there will be a room full of angels waiting to greet Stan when he takes his journey back. I feel so sad that he has to leave early, and yet there is a little tiny part of me that is excited for him. I told him so when I hugged him goodbye and wished him aloha oe. I didn't mean to tell him, it just slipped right out of my mouth. I hope it didn't make him feel bad.

And then I asked him to please say hello to my dad for me when he gets there. And to tell him I miss him. I didn't mean to say that either, but Stan nodded and said he would.

And then we hugged aloha oe again.

Where in the world is the Magic Quilt?

2010-07-28T21:36:00.000-07:00

It's in the hands of the first recipient, Stan! WOOHOO!

I have been so verklempt since Stan received the magic quilt last week, thanks to Amanda. (And Springrose.) (I sent the quilt to Springrose in Ideeho first, because she needed it too, and then she sent it to Amanda in Maryland, who then delivered it to Stan.)

(BTW, Amanda is Swirl's sis-in-law. Isn't she a cutie patootie?)

And aren't Stan and Lila cutie patootie's too? Here they are being granted our quilt full of . . . well, full of us. In a way that quilt is our way of wrapping our arms around another human being who is suffering. May he and Lila feel comfort, and love, and peace, every time they look at it. I know it will bring them good luck. I just know it!

They are traveling right now to see their children and I hope they brought it with them. In fact they will be here in Utah in a few days and I am crossing my fingers I will get to meet them.

(Please, please, pretty please!)

Thank you so much to all of you who helped and contributed. And please join hands with us in the future to spread the magic.

Here is a picture of Swirl holding the quilt. Look at her sparkle! You go, Swirl! (For those of you who don't know, Swirl was my neighbor in the hood when I lived in Hawaii. We were tight!) She's with Amanda and her sister, Emily--the one who started the Stepping Stones website for those grieving the loss of a child.

Here's what Amanda wrote about the night she brought the quilt to Stan:

Stan had been briefed of the magic quilt she did not tell him we were coming over to deliver it today so he was surprised to see us coming through the door. I explained the premise of the magic quilt and your vision for spreading hope, love and inspiration. Stan, in his quiet, stoic manner just listened and smiled. I presented the quilt to him and he said, "thank you" with some slightly sweaty eyes. Lila and I were close to waterworks, sniffling and wiping away our tears. Lila hesitated to be in the picture but I explained that she was a part of this and without her the quilt would not be in Stan's hands. Brian Blum (Swirl's hub) was able to impart some Bishopy comments about a talk President Monson gave at last conference on eternal families and encouraged them to read it. We had a lovely discussion about eternal families and the difficulty of hearing and accepting what comes along with the words "terminal cancer" but that there are blessings in everything and knowing that an earthly death does not separate us forever but brings such comfort during these times.

Stan has chosen to stop all treatment, at this time, due to the rare cancer he has there is little hope that he will benefit from further treatment. Stan and his lovely wife will spend the next three weeks driving cross-country to visit family and enjoying special moments with one another. These two have a magic of their own, but I am hopeful the magic quilt will add a little something extra.

Thank you for allowing me to be a part of this. I can't think of anything else that I could have done to help Stan and Lila, even though my heart ached for a chance to show them how much I love and care for them. This quilt has meaning beyond words and the magic is not limited to the person possessing it.

Lots of love,
Amanda

Thank you Amanda.

LY Stan and Lila.

LY Swirl and hub, Brian. I can't tell you how gratifying it is to have two people I lub so much present on this special occasion.

LY EVERYONE!

Enter the Jack Johnson contest so we can make more quilts and wrap our arms around more people. (Plus, the odds are pretty good you'll win. ;)

Jack Johnson give-oh-give-away

2010-07-18T17:29:00.000-07:00

Last month I took my Laurels to the singles ward. They didn't love looking that far forward, but I loved looking that far back. Young people are so darn fresh and optimistic. In sacrament meeting the speaker quoted from Elder Uchtdorf's last conference talk, You Are My Hands where he referenced a statue of Christ which was severely damaged during a World War II bombing. Most of the statue has been restored, but the hands remain missing so the people of the city added on the base of the statue these words: “You are my hands.”

The speaker quoted Uchtdorf saying, "When I think of the Savior, I often picture Him with hands outstretched; reaching out to comfort, heal, bless, and love."

In Relief Society the teacher drew a hand on the chalkboard and explained that the hand is only as good as it's working fingers, and then she said that we are all the fingers on the hands of the Lord and as we work together we can reach out to heal, comfort, bless and love.

Ain't that just the truth. Especially when it comes to quilting. Many hands make many quilts.

And many quilts make many magic.

Or something like that.

You get my drift.

Soooooo, the first magic quilt is on the road. WOOHOO!

In other words, it's traveling, which is exactly what magic quilts do. The more they travel, the more magic they generate.

First it went to April from Springrose Journals, who is making the next magic quilt, and now it's on it's way to our first official recipient, Stan in Washington D.C.

Photographic evidence coming soon.

Kritta, who made the 1st quilt, has enough leftover fabric to make a 2nd magic quilt. Springrose will make a 3rd magic quilt and, I, the Crash Test Dummy, am making a magic t-shirt quilt.

But I need more fabric and t-shirts nd inspirational stories to keep healing the world, which is why I'm having a Jack Johnson give-away. (I'm not actually giving Jack Johnson away, just two tickets to his concert in Salt Lake City on August 13th.)

I chose Jack Johnson because everyone knows he's my favorite Hawaii surf-dude-turned-rock-star from Kahuku high school.

Plus I have photographic evidence of him with his arm around me.

Have I ever showed you that picture?

Oh yeah, we're tight.

I also chose Jack Johnson because he is big on reducing, reusing and recycling. I'm not that good at reducing, but reusing and recycling fabric for healing quilts is right up my alley.

So here's how to enter the give-away:

Put the magic quilt button on your sidebar and you get one entry.

Mention the magic quilt project and Jack Johnson give-away in a post and you get one entry.

Become a follower, one entry.

Contribute fabric or a signed t-shirt for the next quilts and get three entries.

Contribute an inspirational story and get three entries.

Make sure you post a comment letting me know which of these things you've done. I will check up on you. Don't think I won't.

Deadline for the give-away is July 31st. All entries will be placed in a hat and the winner will be drawn and announced on August 1st.

If you send a t-shirt, please sign your name in permanent marker somewhere near the middle. Also, please chose a t-shirt that you've worn and that represents you somehow.

All inspirational stories will be published here on The Magic Quilt blog and will also be eligible to be published in the first Sisterhood of the Magic Traveling Quilt book.

Fabric donations are more meaningful if they are meaningful. You get me? In other words, if the fabric somehow represents you or your story. For instance I recently bought swatches of bright Hawaiian fabric from Walmart and sent them to Springrose.

They didn't cost much.

The fabric can also be scraps of fabric you've had for years or fabric you wanted to make a quilt into a quilt someday. Tauna, from The Egan Garden donated this fabric and these quilt blocks she's been making (with love) over the years.

T-shirts would be great too. Cubworld already donated the shirt off his back.

Okay, it's time to get started. Let's put our fingers together. Get it? fingers?

hee hee

But seriously, please help me (and Jack Johnson) spread the magic!

Much Mahalo!

We found our first recipient!

2010-05-10T23:37:00.000-07:00

When I asked if anyone knows someone who needs The Magic Quilt, Amanda from What's For Dinner sent me this email:

I know someone who needs it... I'm crying just thinking about him and this blanket. His name is Bro. Tolman.

He and his wife have very special spirits, with faith beyond anyone I have ever met before. They are people in a realm somewhere between heaven and earth--amazing beyond words.

Bro. Tolman is suffering with cancer. He discovered last fall that he has a tumor in his liver---the size of a softball--- and, due to the size and placement, he has not been a candidate for any treatments or surgery other than chemo.

Each month during Fast & Testimony meeting he has an inspiring, faith-filled testimony to share about the love of Jesus Christ and the blessings in his life. Last week he gave his testimony, and although he was very faithful, I was brought to tears hearing him say the Lord has not removed the cancer from him. He continues to take chemo and he's grateful that he can still work and carry on with life.

This man loves children! Any time my kids were at his house, as soon as we walked through the door he would grab toys, hit the floor and start playing with them. He is just such a special individual and I'm so saddened by the thought of him dying, of his poor wife who has been with him since they were teenagers, of his four strong and talented boys, and of the many grandchildren who will not know how truly special their grandfather is.

I think Bro. Tolman would be greatly touched by the gift of the Magic Quilt, the stories that go with it and the love that was put into it. He is one who will appreciate it's comfort. I could go on and on with stories about this man...

Here is the blog his daughter-in-law set up to keep everyone informed...you can read about his journey since January.

After Amanda told his wife about The Magic Quilt here is what she said:

I don't even know what to say. I think this will be such a comfort when he becomes bedridden. He has been so upbeat, but I know there will be dark moments. Thank you for your love and thoughtfulness.

Brother Tolman lives in Silver Springs, Maryland and I am sending the quilt to Amanda, who will present it to Bro. Tolman.

I am so excited for this quilt to go out and work some magic! Along with the quilt, I'm including my favorite Mozart CD. (YAY for Mozart!), as well as a book of all The Magic Quilt stories. Amanda will take photographic evidence of Bro. Tolman receiving The Magic Quilt package.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Announcements:

Kritta is making the Magic Quilt #2 out of the same fabric as quilt #1.

We need to start gathering fabric and stories for The Magic Quilt #3, which is going to be made in Ideeho by Springrose. (Wixom Zoo is in her ward so I bet she'll help too.) When they finish the quilt I'm going to blog across Ideeho to get a photo with them and the quilt.

Please send stories and photos of your fabric to my email address: ctddiaries@gmail.com

And I'm making the Magic Quilt #4, which will be a t-shirt quilt. (I'll explain details later) Cubworld is our first donor. He is even coming over to my house to drop off a signed t-shirt. (YAY!) I've got other inspiring donors in the works (TBA).

Good News Minute

2010-05-06T08:35:00.000-07:00

I hope you have some tissue close by because Kritta finished The Magic Quilt and it arrived on my doorstep a few days ago.

My stone-cold heart was pounding and my eyeballs sprung a leak as I opened the package.

It is bee-U-tiful! Thank you Kritta. And thank you everyone who shared their stories and their fabric.

And guess what Kritta did that gave me shivers? She sewed the names of all those who not only donated fabric and shared their stories, but also those who are following this blog.

Like this:

I ran my fingers over each block and thought of each corresponding story.

Here is Andrea's blocks from her Surrounded in Love entry.

And here is Springrose's block from her She loved Me Most entry.

It's right next to Sandi's block from her Safe in His Arms entry.

The following block choked me up most. It's from Anjeny's entry Finding Comfort. It contains extra special magical powers because she actually took it from her mother's favorite skirt. Her entry, and the fact that her mother passed away three or four years ago, made this donation exceptionally powerful to me.

There are so many inspiring stories.

I want MORE! MORE! MORE! Please send more.

Since our first recipient is now in remission (thank goodness), I will start taking nominations for our actual first recipient soon.

Kritta has enough material to make another magic quilt, and I am going to start quilting myself silly too. If anyone out there wants to help sew or donate fabric and share stories, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE do! There are plenty of struggling sistahs around us who could use a little magic in their lives.

Speaking of magic, I'm going to leave you with a video I saw posted on LoW's blog yesterday featuring the amazing Nie Nie who is incredibly inspiring. Maybe I can get her to donate a piece of fabric for our next quilt.

I Know Where God Hangs Out

2010-04-12T19:36:00.000-07:00

I'm really excited about this new blog, Service Soapbox. It's almost as cool as Relief Society.

I love that they are hosting a writing contest in conjuntion with this upcoming baby shower.

If you need a pick me up, go and read all the entries. But bring some Kleenex (and some toothpaste) because they'll make your eyes sweat and they'll give you cavities.

Here is my entry:

...........................................................................................

I've discovered the secret to time travel and its right under our nose.

Think about it. Isn’t every memory locked up somewhere inside a bottle of Old Spice or Rubber Cement or a jar of cinnamon or our grandparent’s new Subaru? Why haven’t more authors tapped into this mystery? Doesn't it make more sense to use a magical pack of Big Red gum or Bubblicious lip gloss to transport their characters to another land rather than a school bus or a tree house?

Every emotion is scented and kindness smells like industrial soap.

I’ve taken a few trips to Primary Childrens hospital over the past 10 days to visit a nephew who is there trying to figure out why he has a massive blot clot running from his inferior Vena Cava to his kidneys. I never leave without ducking into the hospital bathroom, washing my hands with that industrial soap and then pressing them to my nose and inhaling deeply. It sounds strange, but that industrial soap lingered in the air for nine weeks while I had some of the most intense experiences of my life bringing my twins into this world.

To me, industrial soap smells like the nurse who dropped by every day in bright yellow scrubs and told me dreamy stories about Seattle; and the nurse who told me I looked like a Victoria Secret model every time she came into my room--when you're flat on your back in a hospital gown something about those words gives you the strength to brush your teeth each morning; and the nurse who held my hand while the phlebotomist shoved a needle the size of Vermont into my neck; and the nurse who placed cold cloths on my forehead while the room did summersaults; and the nurse who rubbed my feet while I signed waivers that the doctors were not responsible if my babies came out blind, deaf, dumb or deformed.

I think know where God hangs out. People say you'll find him in church or in temples or in nature, but I bet he's rolling up his sleeves with the nurses in the hallowed halls of the hospitals.

Wouldn’t it be cool if the church started a pilot program, like instead of going to Sunday School you could go to the hospital to learn about God? Is it blasphemous to say I would be the first to sign up?

And is it blasphemous to say I keep waiting for the Bishop to receive the right revelation and put me in as the compassionate service leader. Ever since I had my twins I've known it's the only thing I want to be when I grew up, but somehow he keeps getting his wires crossed.

When I lived in Hawaii I was called to be the Relief Society president, which is kind of like a bossy compassionate service leader, plus a whole lot of meetings.

When I moved to Utah I was called to be the Young Womens president, which is kind of like a bossy, cranky compassionate service leader, plus a whole lot of meetings, activities, and personal progress.

But guess what my young women just made? Guess, guess, guess!

A magic quilt.

Those of you who have been reading me for a while know that about a year ago I started this magic quilt project to heal the world one quilt at a time. But then Kritta (my magic quilter) and I both had major life changes this year, which put the Magic Quilt project on the back burner.

Well, good news! Kritta is almost done with the quilt and we will soon be unveiling it and sending it to the first recipient. YAY!

In the meantime my Young Women have pieced together their favorite t-shirts and made their own magic quilt, which they have been passing around to those in need of comfort in the ward. This past Sunday someone bore their testimony and mentioned their granddaughter who is struggling. After the meeting one of my young women rushed up and excitedly suggested we take the magic quilt to that struggling girl.

Be still my heart.

Wouldn't it be cool if God had his own set of quilting blocks?

Photographic Evidence of The Magic Quilt

2009-06-23T13:54:00.000-07:00

Hey everyone, look what Kritta did!

It's our Magic Quilt. Isn't it beeeUtiful!

Are you eyes sweating or what?

It's like little pieces of US, side by side, holding hands against pain and sorrow.

It's like magic.

It's like a magic quilt.

I can't wait to send it to Marjorie so we can help Kung Fu Panda kick her breast cancer with our love and faith.

Mahalo Kritta!

Aunt Mary's Quilt

2009-03-24T13:56:00.000-07:00

This entry comes to us from Rosemary @ Nationalshare.org, a Share Pregnancy and Infant Loss Support center. This entry make you wish you had an aunt Mary. Thank you so much for sharing your story, Rosemary! LY!

When I first read about your quilting project on Emily’s blog (Stepping Stones), I knew I had to write about my Aunt Mary’s quilt. Well, technically, it’s MY quilt, but my dear Aunt Mary made it for me when I was 12, and I still think of it as “Aunt Mary’s Quilt,” and so do my kids.

Before I tell you about the quilt, I really should tell you about my Aunt Mary. She was my Great Aunt, my Dad’s mother’s only sister. She was the sweetest, gentlest lady, and she was unable to have children. I don’t know why, but she did tell me once that there was a minor surgery that could have been done, but my uncle wouldn’t allow it. He told her that if God intended her to have children, He would have made her so she could have them. I often wonder what that must have been like for her, because she LOVED children. And they loved her. I loved her. Tremendously. I was the first grandchild for both of my parent’s families, and I have always been told that Aunt Mary spoiled me rotten. My mom used to tell me that when I was little, if I wanted something and she told me no, I would say, “Well, I’ll ask Aunt Mary. She’ll get it for me!” And Aunt Mary often did.

As I grew up, Aunt Mary was one of my very favorite people. Yes, she spoiled me, but not only in material ways. She spoiled me with love. I don’t remember most of the things she bought me, but I will never forget her love. I will never forget how every letter and card she wrote to me began with the greeting, “Dear one,…” After I had my first daughter, she wrote me the sweetest letter and said that she hoped I enjoyed my daughter as much as she had always enjoyed her sweet Mama. Every child should be spoiled the way that she “spoiled” me, and I loved spending time with her.

As I became an adult, married, moved away, and had children, Aunt Mary and I remained close. Ironically enough, she was usually the first person I called when I was having Mommy meltdown moments. There are some things I will forever remember about her…she loved Christmas, she prayed the rosary every day, she loved to get cards, she made the most delicious homemade noodles I’ve ever eaten, she always had M & Ms in a candy jar on her coffee table, she made beautiful quilts, she taught me to crochet…so many more memories I have…I couldn’t even begin to write them all.

In October 2001, Aunt Mary turned 90. Just to give you an idea of how many people loved this woman…there were nearly 100 people at her birthday party. She had so many God children, I don’t even know the exact number. Sadly, three months after her 90th birthday, Aunt Mary suddenly died. She went into the hospital for something minor and died 2 days later.

So now, I’ll tell you about “Aunt Mary’s Quilt.” When I was a kid, we moved around. A lot. The hardest move for me by far was the one my family made the summer between 6th and 7th grade. We moved into a brand new house, and my room was part of the finished basement. Aunt Mary made me a quilt to use for a bed spread. It was squares of pastel gingham…yellow, pink, orange, green, aqua, light blue…gingham of different sizes and colors they don’t make anymore. At each corner of each square of gingham was a fluffy little pom pom made of pale yellow yarn. (keep in mind, this was the 1970’s!) I loved that quilt and still do.

In 1980, when I was a senior in high school, my parents moved again, and I stayed behind, living with a friend to finish high school. The day after graduation, I moved back in with my parents. What a comfort it was to see my quilt on the bed in my new room. I lived with my parents for 2 more years while I attended a local college. When I moved away to finish my degree at Eastern Illinois University, the quilt stayed behind. But once I was married and had a home of my own, the quilt was mine again.

Over the years, this quilt has definitely become a comfort item for me as well as my kids. It mostly stays on the shelf in my bedroom closet, but if I am sick and lying around on the couch (which doesn’t happen often!), the quilt comes out. That quilt is the first thing my kids ask for when they are sick or just want some comfort. Actually, they don’t even ask for it now that they are older, they just go into my closet and get it. If I see one of them on the couch with Aunt Mary’s quilt, the first thing I ask is “what’s wrong?” If more than one child is sick at the same time, they fight over who gets to use it! If I am sick when any of them are, they know it’s mine. During the winter months when the kids have colds, etc, Aunt Mary’s quilt is out of the closet and on my couch often.

The quilt is so soft and comfortable, but it is not in the best shape anymore. Some of the seams have come undone, and every time I was it, I’m afraid it will fall apart. I almost feel as if I should hide it. Yet I can’t. I love that my kids call it “Aunt Mary’s Quilt,” and that they want to pull it out and snuggle under it when they need comfort. A few years ago, I gave it to my sister’s mother in law to repair, but there are now more seams coming undone.

I have a couple of other quilts that Aunt Mary made. They are all special to me, and I can close my eyes and see her stitching each piece and imagine the love that she put into making them. I love them all because they came from her hands and heart, but none of them have quite the importance to me that “Aunt Mary’s Quilt” has.

Thank you for giving me the opportunity to share something so special to me. I love writing about things that are near and dear to my heart, and over the years, I have written other things about my Aunt Mary. But, I never even thought about writing about this quilt. I also realized that I didn’t have any photographs of this treasured part of my childhood, and now I do. So thank you again for inspiring me. I look forward to your book. I am not a quilter, but I come from a family of quilters, and I love quilts and hearing the stories behind them.

Surrounded in Love

2009-03-20T18:43:00.000-07:00

This entry comes from Andrea @ Blogging Mama. I love the generous nature of this entry and the idea of being surrounded in love. Much Mahalo, Andrea. LY!

I actually had a diaper bag in this fabric from a store. And one day I discovered you could buy the fabric so I did. When I was adopting my daughter (aka The Chick) I wanted to make her something but I'm not good at clothes or bibs as it turned out. But I kick butt at curtains and blankets! So I made her a blanket out of the fabric and 19 months later it's her favorite blanket. She must have this blanket first on top of her when she goes to bed then her other blankets. It's kind of special because first is the blanket I made her, then the blanket her Aunt Valerie (my sis) made for her and then the blanket my MIL made for her. She's basically all wrapped up in love. Ahh (I know that may have been over the top!)

I bought this fabric to make a quilt square for Chick's 100 Good Wishes Quilt which is a Chinese tradition where you ask friends and family to send a quilt square and a note offering good wishes for a new baby. Well, technically (if you want to get political) she's Taiwanese. But her heritage is Han Chinese. We got so many quilt squares from people all over, people who we mostly only knew online through adoption groups, I never needed to have this filler fabric I bought. I haven't made the quilt yet but one day I will and I hope it will be a treasure for her as she grows older. Again, she was surrounded with love.

The Endless Love of a Mother

2009-03-16T12:11:00.000-07:00

This entry comes to us from Emily (Swirl's sister) @ Stepping Stones. I love this entry because it emphasizes the magic that love and support provide through the pain. And I love love love the soothing fabric. Mahalo Emily. LY!

When my son Gabriel was stillborn, we were blindsided. I had no idea that in this age of modern medicine babies still died. It was something that happened back in the pioneer days, or maybe third world countries. Not now, not to me.

Unreal.

Coming home from the hospital I refused to wear my maternity clothes- what a cruel joke. And yet, none of my regular clothes fit me. My mom bought me a pair of pajama pants- a field of deep blue with stars. So cozy and comfortable. I wore those pants probably for the first month straight. I holed up in my room, watching MASH reruns and sleeping. And my family and neighbors let me do what I needed to do- shut down for a little bit. They took my kids back and forth to school. They dropped off meals to feed my kids. I remember so much love expressed from those days. Sadness, too, but lots of love.

Even still I wear those pants, even now. And I have worn them through two subsequent pregnancies and the sleep deprived days of nursing new babies. They are faded and worn, but so comfortable.

I went to the fabric store last night intending to get a piece of cloth with little bugs on it- ladybugs, maybe. (Gabriel's nickname was 'goldbug', from when we were reading a Richard Scarry book to our then 4 and 5 year old when we told them we were going to have a baby.) Or maybe a piece with butterflies- butterflies are symbolic to so many. But I was drawn to these blues. The deeper blue in particular. They look so similar to the pajama pants. I remember the love my mom expressed when she got them for me and gave me permission to mourn. The love of those days as I grieved my baby. And the sleepless nghts and days as I have nursed my new babies.

The starry design symbolic of endless love of a mother for her children, through the eternities.This is for anyone, anywhere, remembering their children.

peace- emily

A Gift of Faith

2009-03-12T20:20:00.000-07:00

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.

Below is the fabric I am contributing, which represents my own magic quilt.

The Healing Quilt

2009-03-06T14:06:00.000-08:00

The following entry is from Tonya @ You Asked For It. I love this entry! Thanks Tonya.

When I was a little girl, if any of us kids were frightened or ill there was a place of safety-- same as any other kids' place of safety probably--Mom and Dad's bed. Of course, my parents had a pretty good system, if we came in their room we'd get a quilt on the floor near their bed.
This Quilt:

You know, I'm not 100% sure that this is THE only quilt that I snuggled up in on those floor-sleeping nights, but this is the quilt I remember best. I remember being sick and wrapped up in this quilt on the couch; I remember drinking hot jell-o water for an upset stomach and accidentally spilling a little on the quilt; I remember one night huddled in the quilt holding a cold soda against my burning up foot when infection was winning the battle . . .

But most of all I remember fingering the many many fabrics of the double wedding ring design --crafted by my great grandmother when my own mother was married --and my mom telling me stories of where the fabrics came from. If I can recall I think there were pieces of many fabrics that had also been used for great aunt's dresses and great uncle's suits. It was a great distraction from worry and nausea because my mom loves to tell stories about her family, and they never stopped at the fabrics!

Speaking of fabrics . . . our quilt is still around, but not exactly in great shape. The photo shows that it's a little faded, but you can't really see that there's more stuffing poking out than being held in by the quilting so I'll be sending some alternate fabric, something given to me by my grandmother because I'm being groomed for the "She Who Dies With The Most Fabric Wins" club... it's a family tradition!

Patience and Prayer

2009-03-03T10:27:00.000-08:00

This morning I woke up with this prayer in my head:

Oh my Heavenly Father, I come in humble prayer.
Not to beg for miracles, just strength to not despair.
If I fail to see your wisdom, give me faith to never doubt it.
Help me bear the cross you send, and not complain about it.

I memorized this when I was 12 or 13 years old from my favorite Helen Steiner Rice book and I used to repeat it over and over to myself during my childhood struggles.

It still pops into my head at odd times. Like when I'm unconscious. And often when I'm conscious too.

Lately I've been thinking of it as I look around and notice all the suffering and struggling going on around us.

Church was beautiful on Sunday. Even though I was starving to death I was deeply touched by all the testimonies (including my husband's (YAY!))

Our 2nd counselor, Bro K's, mother passed away a few weeks ago. She had cancer for 10years and he and his family have been taking care of her through all of her health struggles. Bro K bore his testimony and told us that one of the last things his mother said to him was "Thank you for being patient with me."

He said he looked right back at her and said, "Thank you for being patient with me." He spoke about his newborn daughter who cries every night and he spoke of how our children can often be a source of irritation and exhaustion, and how they require large amounts of patience.

I thought of how patience can be a form of healing.

I thought of Pat! She has been trying to care for her son who had hip surgery a year ago. It's been a long, arduous, complicated, expensive trial for both of them with no end in sight, which has required a lot of patient. Ah, the patience of Pat!

I thought of our Elder's Chorum president and his wife. A young, vivacious man with two toddlers--always the first person to help anyone in need. Two weeks ago he was stricken with a really rare virus that I can't spell and don't want to look up, which left him temporarily paralyzed. He's been in the hospital getting dialysis. He's been at home flat on his back, unable to control his body, his life, crazy afraid it won't go away, or worse yet, that he will stop breathing and die.

My husband and I walked over and spent some time with him on Sunday night. We were deeply moved by his emotional stories of loneliness and fear. I realize that his emotional suffering has been as great as his physical suffering. Which is often the case for all who suffer.

The Magic Quilt can help with the emotional suffering, if not the physical.

We've got to get this Magic Quilt done, peeps!

So I dug through all my wicker baskets and guess what I found? Tons of fabric. Magic fabric. I found all my old curtains that I made when was cute and crafty and my kids were little. My mom and I seriously made curtains for every room in the house. And I found all the left over fabric from the days when I used to make scrapbooks and cover them. And I found some pillow covers my sister made for me out of her huband's old shirts.

Just think of all the magic this fabric holds. My curtains are infused with compassion (They saw my whole mid-life crisis.) My scrapbooks hold my story. And those pillows offered rest to our weary heads for almost 10 years

So I spent the weekend washing them with LoW's magic laundry detergent recipe. Then I dried them with Downey. Then I ironed them with love sweet love.

And then I sprinked pixie dust on them and did a rain dance around them and fed them chocolate kisses so they'd be 100% enchanted.

I will now send them out into the world with a wink and a nod, (and my favorite Helen Steiner Rice prayer.)

Here's a sampling of the fabric:

And that's not even all of it, but I got bored with uploading photos!

May the force be with the Magic Quilt!

Nanoo Nanoo

And here's a preview of T (as in Tonya)'s upcoming post for TheMagic Quilt

She Loved Me Most!

2009-02-25T16:56:00.000-08:00

Our latest contribution to the magic quilt comes from Springrose. Thank you so much, Springrose for your beautiful story. I LOVE HOLLY HOBBIE!

I have been thinking for quite sometime about what story to write for the Magic Quilt book. But I just keep coming back to my grandmother. So the memories I share will be of her.

I have 4 girl cousins and 3 older sisters. I am the youngest in my immediate family as well as the youngest of the cousins. We all lived with in 10 minutes of Grandma and Grandpa's house, we always called them Gram's and Grampies. They had lovely large fruit trees, and grape vines crawling all over the patio, forming a lovely canopy in the summer and fall. The grapes would hang down in large bunches to be picked in the early fall. They had flood irrigation and weekly they would turn the handle and water would rush into the yard until it was a large pool.

One summer I remember being at Gram's and Grampies house and the pears were big and green and ready to pick. I had never picked pears before. Gram's took me by the hand and led me to the tree and showed me how to tell if it was ready to be picked, then she let me pull a big juicy looking pear off the tree. She came prepared and with a sharp knife she cut a slice of the fruit off and gave it to me. It was Heaven! Everything with Gram's was that way! I was all that mattered when I was with her. Always lovingly teaching and instructing and leading. Never scolding or anger!

Every morning Grams would kneel down by her bed and pray. I would sometimes sneak into her room so I could hear her words. Always praying for each of her children and their spouses and each grandchild by name. Her prayers seemed to last forever, I often thought she would never get up again. But the fervent manner and the loving words and the relationship I could feel she had with her loving Heavenly Father. What an example of faith and prayer!

She made each granddaughter a Holly Hobbie quilt. Tied with love by her hands. I still have mine and when I am sick or feeling blue I pull it out and wrap up in it. Only at her funeral did all the granddaughter's make the same comment, “She loved me the most!” We each could feel her love, and when we were each with her we were all that mattered! No wonder I missed so many days in elementary school, I would fake sick just to go to Gram's house! Mac and cheese and French style green beans were always on the menu when I went for lunch, they were my favorite and she always had a cupboard full for me “just in case” I got “sick”!

I hope I can be the same type of Gram's to my future grandchildren as she was to me and all my cousins! She is my hero! I miss her desperately especially now that I have my own children. But I know I will see her again one day! What a glorious day it will be!

I couldn't find any Holly Hobbie fabric to send. But I will be sending some red and white cherry fabric that reminds me of her each time I see it.

Chicken Soup For Samantha's Soul.

2009-02-23T15:41:00.000-08:00

Remember Amanda's story?

She needs our help. A darling little 6 year named Samantha has a very aggressive brain tumor.

Samantha and her family could really use some love notes with words of hope, faith, love, and inspiration. Please take a few minutes to share your testimony, a story that might be uplifting, an encouraging poem, the lyrics to an inspirational song, your favorite uplifting scripture, ANYTHING to help Samantha and her family through this difficult time. They continue to fight, but some days are harder than others.

Please email your contribution to dicia@hotmail.com

Here's a link for the full story.

And look below for Swirl's contribution to the magic quilt.

A Prayer and a Snug

2009-02-23T15:09:00.000-08:00

Our next sweet story and fabric swatch comes to us from Swirl @ Girl in a Swirl

LY Swirl!

Thanks for making the magic happen.

I've been wanting to contribute to this quilt for a while, but finding a magical piece of fabric is hard.

Then I was putting some sheets away in my linen closet and saw this blanket.

All my children were born early.

I had one son who was only 2 weeks early, then two others were born 1 month early and my last baby was 2 months early.

This last one had me worried. To me, he was so small. I spent as much time as I could holding him--kangaroo style. (That is what they called it in the NICU when you hold them flesh-to-flesh, bare chest and have them bare and then cover up the both of you to keep them warm.) Premies thrive when they have lots of human touch and can hear your heart beat--which only makes sense because that is what they are use to hearing-- your heart beat.

I was so scared to bring him home. He was still so small and sometimes would stop breathing, but the nurses assured me that was normal--premies sometimes forget to breath so you have to "jump start" them. I was scared that would happen when I brought him home so I snuggled him lots just so he could hear my heartbeat, feel my warmth and hopefully the rising and falling of my chest would remind him to keep breathing.

Whenever I had to put him down to take a shower, or for a car ride to the doctor, I had a ritual of wrapping him up in a blanket. Criss crossing the blanket and tucking it tightly around him so he would be snug and I would always say a quiet prayer that he would be okay and feel loved until I could hold him again.

That's what makes this baby blanket magical. It has so many prayers already infused in the fabric. I hope that the person who recieves this magic quilt will wrap themselves snuggly up and feel the love.

Finding Comfort through an Article of Clothing

2009-02-12T12:39:00.000-08:00

This submission comes from Anjeny @ Ramblings of an Islander. Today is her Mom's birthday so this submission is like a hug and a kiss for her.

LY Anjeny! Happy Birthday Anjeny's mom!!

I have been thinking about my mom a lot.

See, April of this year will mark the 2nd year anniversary of my mom’s passing. Last year around this time, I went back to Micronesia, my home island, to commemorate her first year anniversary and help my brothers finish whatever unfinished business my mom might have left behind.

I was going through her belongings to see what needed to be given away, thrown away or keep. I came upon an old skirt that my mom made for herself. My sister-in-law told me that was one of her favorite things to wear. I could tell from the way it looked. It looked like it’s seen better days. One look at the skirt and I knew I had to keep it. It reminded me of one that my mom used to have when I was a little girl growing up.

I took the skirt back with me when I returned to Hawaii.

This is where my story begins . . .

Back when I was a little girl, around the age of five or so, my mom was the most important person in my life. To me, no one else compared to my mom. She was beautiful and very talented in any creative home making skill. She loved her family more than life itself and she was constantly making sacrifices for them. The list goes on and on.

She was an amazing seamstress, she could sew anything. I remember when we would go shopping and she’d see a beautiful dress on display that was over her budget to buy. She would walk around the dress, studying it from top to bottom, check out the style, then she’d buy the fabric and material (which was a lot cheaper than the dress itself) and go home and make the same exact dress on her sewing machine. I’m sorry to say that I did not inherit that amazing talent from her, one of my biggest regrets.

You know how when you have a favorite shirt or an article of clothing you find yourself wearing it a lot more often than any other clothing you have? That’s how it was with my mom and her skirt. She made this skirt out of scraps left over from dresses she would make to sell to people and she loved it so much that she wore it a lot.

In my culture, whenever a boy decides he wants to marry a girl, his whole family (parents, grandparents, uncles and aunts) have to go with him to ask the girl’s parents’ permission to marry their daughter.

One of my brothers fell for a girl from another island so my mom had to go with him to get his future bride to be. That was the most devastating and saddest time of my life. I have never been separated from my mom before and for her to leave the island like that, it was hell for a little girl like me back then. For some reason, my mom left her skirt behind. Since it was a skirt she wore so often, it even had her sweet smell of the perfume she wore . . . gardenia. I would cry myself to sleep every night missing my mom. The days were not so bad because I was always kept busy, but the night times were the worst because my mom would usually sing us a couple of songs to sleep or tell us bedtime stories.

You can guess where I turned for comfort. Yes, that skirt of hers. Some nights I would curl up with her skirt to sleep or other nights I would wear it over my clothes so I could bask in the smell of her and dream about her.

For the two weeks she was gone that was my source of comfort. Who would have thought that an article of clothing would be a good source of comfort for a little girl who was missing her mom who she had never been apart from?

That's why when I saw this skirt left in her belongings which happened to be her favorite one in her last living days, I was reminded of my childhood and I just had to have it. This skirt is little of what I have left of her and believe it or not, whenever I am missing my mom a lot I take out her skirt and remember all the different times things we’ve done together and I feel better.

It may sound crazy that I could actually look for comfort from an article of clothing but I don’t care. I hope that if ever my kids are separated from me and missing me that there would actually some visible evidence of something I own besides their memories of me that can bring them some small measure of comfort in their time of sadness.

By donating a piece of this skirt to The Magic Quilt, I feel like my mom's legacy will live on and bring comfort to others in need of comfort.

With that said, I want to tell everyone out there whose moms are still alive to make sure you let them know how much they mean to you and how much you love them.

Safe in the Arms of A Loving Heavenly Father

2009-02-08T20:24:00.000-08:00

Our second submission comes to us from Sandi, Kute Kasey's mom. Mahalo Sandi. LY!!!

I have a friend who is a great inspiration to me--such a great example of faith.

I met her more than twenty years ago, while we were both attending college in Hawaii. We became good friends and as I learned more about her life and the struggles she had gone through, I began to see a glimpse into the wonderful person that she is. I was amazed at what a great attitude she had and wondered how a person goes through such heartache and comes out smiling.

We both went on to get married and have families. She married an Air-force officer and lived all over the world, having great adventures. At last they were stationed in Las Vegas, happy to be close to both of their families in California. They were so excited to get to spend Thanksgiving with her husband’s family. It was during this happy trip that yet another tragedy occurred in the life of my friend. Her sweet little boy, who was just 18 months old at the time, somehow managed to slip away. He fell into a pond that was on the property, and by the time they found him, it was too late. Their precious little boy was gone. A parent’s worst nightmare--the thing you think you could never survive--had happened.

Since they were in the military and didn’t know where they would be stationed next, they decided to have the funeral and bury their baby there in California so his grave would be near family. I simply cannot imagine how they ever managed to pack up and drive away, making that drive home to Nevada without their little boy.

I visited with her when they returned and was so amazed at how peaceful she seemed to be. I know that had I been in her situation that would not have been the case. I did not know how she could take the death of her baby so calmly. She explained to me that Heavenly Father had been by her side, and had blessed her with such a spiritual experience that it would make her seem ungrateful for that blessing if she were to act any differently.

She received a personal witness that her little boy was safe in the arms of a loving Heavenly Father. She knew without a doubt that she would one day be reunited with him. I watched her explain this to her other children, and saw them accept without question. They missed him terribly, but because of the faith of their mother, they were able to look forward to seeing him again. She is such an example to me and to everyone around her. She inspires me to not get discouraged, to know that we have a Father in Heaven who never leaves our side. She shows me that we can bear heavy burdens and still feel blessed.

My contribution to the wonderful magic quilt is a piece of fabric that I recently got in Hawaii--because that is the place that this wonderful friend of mine came into my life.

Amazing Lessons from a Three Year Old

2009-02-07T19:39:00.000-08:00

I'm so excited because we got our first submission for The Magic Quilt!

It comes from Amanda @ It's What's For Dinner

LY Amanda!

A few years ago I met a special family with a precious little girl by the name of Katie.

Katie and her family had moved across the country to my city for medical treatment; at 1.5 years old, she had been diagnosed with brain tumors. Katie was only 2 years old when we met, but she had already accomplished so much in her life. She had taught her parents what love truly meant. She had inspired so many through her optimistic outlook during treatments. Her smile could melt anyone’s heart.

Katie would spread her love of Heavenly Father and sing I Am a Child of God for all to listen.

Katie was not scared. She made friends everywhere, especially her cancer buddies that she met in the hospital while undergoing treatment and prayed for daily until she died--her baby sister and mother still pray for her cancer friends almost 2 years later.

I knew Katie for 2 years before she lost her battle with cancer. I held her hand and watched her dance. I brought her a puppy to cuddle and play with--one of her wishes in her last few weeks. I held Katie’s mother and cried with her, and sometimes for her.

I was not able to save Katie. I was not able to keep her family from grieving. I felt helpless on so many levels, but I did find one thing I could do for Katie. Two months before Katie died I created a Relay For Life team on behalf of Katie. Relay For Life is an annual fundraiser for The American Cancer Society. I had one month to gather a team, put together a fundraiser and hopefully reach a goal of $1000. Katie had touched so many and everyone loved her so this was an easy task, after all. We raised over $4000 in just over a month. I brought together a group of friends and family who felt helpless and gave them a chance to show their love and support for Katie and her family.

Katie was limited by her physical body, but her spirit reached thousands. She was a joy to be with and wise beyond her short three years. Everyone was sad, but no one could speak of Katie without smiling.

Katie taught me to love life, cherish every moment you have with your family and to live unafraid--what amazing lessons from a 3 year old!

Our First Recipient of the Magic Quilt

2009-02-06T18:07:00.000-08:00

Meet Marjorie.

I like to call here Marjie. She looks like a Marjie to me, don't you think?

Marjie is Pat's mother. Her granddaughter, Susan (Funny Farmer's beautiful daughter) sent me a few photos of Marjie and told me a little bit about her so we could all get to know the first recipient. Now that I see her I want to work even faster and harder to get this magic quilt finished so she can be healed by the hands of love.

BTW, to give you some idea of how committed I am to this project, I just bowed out (gracefully, of course) of my Spring class so I can focus on getting this quilt/book finished.

Bring on the magic fabric!

Sandi asked if she could send non-magic fabric and I say YES! Non magic fabric becomes magic when sent by a caring hand.

If you don't have an inspirational story and fabric swatch, please share a brief account of a time someone did something to comfort you when you needed it most.

Okay, back to Marjie!

Marjorie is a loving wife, mother, and grandmother.

She is very good at sewing, cross stitching, and darning lace! She is very talented at making crafts of all types.

Marjorie uplifts those around her and each of her family members are honored to be related!

She has eight children, six of which are married and have kids. Her husband is a wonderful man who only magnifies Marjorie's splendid personality.

Marjorie is very kind and gentle in nature. She is very maternal, and is loving to all of her children and grandchildren. She is full of faith and hope, which warms the hearts of all around her.

Marj is currently fighting breast cancer.
--Susan, Marjie's Grandaughter

The Spark

2009-02-01T22:30:00.000-08:00

I started thinking about the Magic Quilt 10 years ago when I had my twins and it's been stewing in my brain ever since.

Actually it wasn't a quilt idea, it was more of a book idea--a book of ideas about how to comfort the people we love when they're in pain.

I thought of the ideas because I had just spent 3 weeks in the hospital in early labor with my twins and 6 weeks fretting over them in incubators in NICU. My sister had just lost her own baby so we were both thinking about pain and fear and and how no one quite knows how to deal with the pain and fear of the people they love.

The quilt idea came seperately because for years I have been saving all of my kids team uniforms and articles of clothing that evoke special memories, with the intention of one day sewing a big family quilt to wrap myself in when my kids leave home and I get nostalgic.

It makes me feel like I can hold on to some small piece of their childhood.

Recently a three-year-old boy in my ward died suddenly. As a Relief Society presidency we didn't know how to comfort the grieving parents. Someone suggested we gather some of his clothing and make a quilt so the parents could feel close to him. I thought it was the most brilliant idea in the world.

That's why I LOVE LOVE LOVE the idea of a Magic Quilt because ideas are powerful and stories are powerful, BUT a soft warm quilt pieced together from people's real experiences . . . WOW, that's powerful, especially when sewn together with love.

I am so touched to look up and see that all of the followers are my friends who have each already shared their story in some way with me and with each other.

Gives me chicken skin. And it gives the idea of a magic quilt so much more meaning.

It is my hope that we will make many more friends and start a global quilting bee.

I'll start. Click here to read why I want to contribute something yellow.

I intend to call Kapiolani hospital and see if I can track down my nurse and ask her if she will donate a pair of her yellow scrubs. If not I will cut a piece of my son's lucky yellow shorts. He went a whole basketball season wearing this one pair of shorts because he truly believed they gave him good luck. Maybe they did. he went undefeated, after all.

Can't wait to hear your story!

LY, everyone!

BIG EXCITING ANNOUNCEMENT

2009-01-30T11:17:00.000-08:00

We are going to make a magic quilt, girls. I'm talking about Quilt POWER. We are going to heal the world one quilt at a time. (Thank you Wendy for giving wings to my idea).

You guys send me a piece of fabric--any size. It can be cut from a blanket or a piece of clothing, but there must be a story with it because if there are no memories locked inside the fabric the quilt can't be magic.

The fabric can be something you wore or something your child/husband/parent/sibling/neighbor/friend wore during a joyful time of their life or an inspiring time or a lucky time or a powerful time or a sorrowful time. Yada yada.

When you send me the fabric, send the story with it--something uplifting that will bring cheer. As soon as I receive it, I will take a photo of your fabric swatch and share your story on my blog. Or you can post your story on your own blog and I'll link to it.

Sound blogical so far?

Eventually we/I/someone/other/than/ me/myself/and/I will help me make a magic quilt out of all these pieces of fabric.

While someone other than me/maybe Kritta/or Robin is piecing together the magic, I will put all the stories and photos in a book and hit the pavement until I get it published.

When the quilt is complete we will begin sending it, along with the book, to people who need to be healed. We'll start with Marjorie, Pat's mom, who has breast cancer. She will wrap herself in the magic quilt and read the stories of comfort and inspiration and commiseration. At the back of the book will be blank sheets of paper for each person who receives the blanket to add their eagle power to it before sending it on to the next person in need, which should be Jen and Annie's mom.

And so on and so on.

Who has tingles right now, raise your hand!

ME TOO!

We've got to get to work, girls. There are so many people who need to be healed.

Who's in?