Sew Write To Pray

 “Let no one ever come to you without leaving better and happier. Be the living expression of God’s kindness; kindness in your face, kindness in your eyes, and kindness in your smile.” – Mother Teresa

After reading my last post, my daughter said to me, “Maybe your next story shouldn’t be about death.”

She gave me something to think about: Do I write and talk about death too much?  One Christmas years ago, as a young adult, I sat at a table with a few “elderly” relatives. Thinking back, they must have been in their early fifties, but at the time, they seemed quite elderly to me. While trying to enjoy my meal, I listened politely as one sentence after another had to do with who had cancer, who was in the hospital, and who had recently died.

“He had just received a ‘clean bill of health.’ You just never know when it’s your time.” my aunt had said referring to the passing of her friend.

“She looked so good,” another aunt said, when recalling how someone looked in the coffin.

“What do you mean?” I was thought to myself, “She was dead!”

Follow the Star and Share your Gifts!

I wish I could say the conversation spoiled my appetite, but few things ever do that. However, I was distressed by the topics. After all, I was in my twenties! I had no desire to discuss or to even think about death!

Now here I am in my fifties. I have a big family and a large circle of friends. Having all of these people in my life usually means, at any given moment, I am aware of someone who is suffering in some way. I always seem to know about someone who has cancer, who is in the hospital or who has recently died. I have accepted this as the downside of both growing older and loving so many people.

Benjamin Franklin said, “The only things certain in life are death and taxes.” As law-biding Americans, paying taxes is upsetting and uncomfortable to discuss, but nonetheless, inescapable. As human beings, death is also upsetting and uncomfortable to talk about, and even more inescapable.

For the most part, I create memorial keepsakes and quilts for the very ill. People who are suffering or know of someone who is suffering seek me out. I have spent countless hours “sitting at the table” listening to sad stories. However, rather than with unenlightened, youthful ears, I now listen with an open and caring heart. I could have chosen to just make quilts for joyful occasions such as for a baby’s arrival or a friend’s birthday. I could have chosen to shy away from other people’s problems, but I would have deprived myself of a great many gifts.  Many times I have witnessed the strength of the human spirit, and I have recognized the value of those around me.

I do not want to seem like a downer to my daughter or to anyone else. I hope instead, when writing or speaking about my quilts, I am able to convey the beauty of life. Because death is inevitable, we must take the time to recognize the precious treasures we hold within us. Each person needs to know his or her life holds a unique purpose, and each of us has a responsibility to use our individual gifts to help those around us discover those purposes.

As this is the season of Advent, I watched “It’s a Wonderful Life” the other night.  I love that movie and I will most likely watch it a few more times before the stroke of midnight announcing the arrival of 2011.  In an interview about the movie, the director, Frank Capra, said he wanted to do the movie because it reinforced his belief that each life has a purpose.  Isn’t this what I’m always saying?!  George Bailey was given the opportunity to view a world without him in it, and through that experience, the problems which had overwhelmed him suddenly became insignificant compared to the possibility of losing his family and friends. 

I think this is a worthwhile exercise  we should all do.  Try to imagine a world without YOU in it.  Think of the children who would not have been born, the mother whose arms would have been empty, and the friend who might have succombed to despair for not having the help you had offered.  What a desolate Pottersville we would have without you. I know I would miss you!

May you have a joyous and peace-filled, “Bedford Falls” Christmas and a very Happy New Year!

For Rena

“A faithful friend is a sturdy shelter.  He who finds one, finds a treasure.” — Sirach 6:14

In 1985, I gave birth to a baby girl. We named her Karen. She had all her fingers and toes. She had big, round eyes that saw me smile at her. Her little nose was a miniature version of mine and she turned her head to look at me when she heard my voice. She died when she was just three days old. She was a beautiful angel, but . . . I wasn’t meant to keep her.

After a few years, Ted, Laura and I were blessed with another baby girl – Robin. When she was two, I began working as a home party sales person. I would convince all my friends to host a party so I could sell my wares. Then, at the party, I would talk a whole new group of women into having a party of their own. I met Rena at one of these parties. In the little time that we spent together that evening, Rena told me about her little girl, who, like Robin, was two years old. She also said she would LOVE to have a party!

The next week I called Rena to book a party in her home. However, something caught me off guard – her husband answered the phone as Rena was not available. There is an unwritten code among home party sales women that we are never to talk to husbands. If a husband gets wind of a party before the wife commits, he might talk her out of the party. To cover my tracks, I told him I wanted to schedule a visit with Rena to give our toddlers an opportunity to meet and play.

Rena soon returned my call and we scheduled a “play date” for the girls and not a sales party. From the very first moment she entered my home, we hit it off. As our little girls were learning the virtues of sharing (rather loudly, I might add), Rena and I were relishing in all we had in common. We both enjoyed being creative with our crafts and sewing. We loved country decor and trying new recipes. We both had mothers who were twins. We were both named after our aunts. We had similar beliefs in everything from the best books to read to the importance of living a faith-filled life. Our comfortableness with each other felt more like a life-long friendship.

At some point near the end of our visit, it came up we were born the same year – of course! I shared my birthday, and I asked for hers.  Her response gave me pause — November 22^nd. This was Karen’s birthday! At that moment, I said to myself, “God had given me a very special friend.”

In the years to come, our friendship deepened. In 1993, Rena talked me into going to my first quilt class. After that we took another class and then another. Before long we were teaching the quilt classes together. We sought out quilt shows and quilt shops. (Rena’s husband probably would have saved a bundle if I had just done that home party instead.)  Most of all, Rena and I were always looking for ways to get together to sew. When we were able to spend time together making quilts, it was a good day.

As I have often said, quilting is much more than just sewing pieces of fabric together.  Rena and I always found it to be a spiritual experience where fabric and color could explain life. Some colors and fabrics blend beautifully while others just do not fit together. Much like Rena’s and my friendship, sometimes the quilts we have in mind to make turn out differently than originally intended. Often, the most loved and cherished quilt loses some of the patchwork.

I can’t remember ever being with Rena when she didn’t have something wonderful to say. Her thoughts about life were inspiring and her understanding of scripture was profound. Her words lingered inside me and made me a better person. When I look at all the beautiful quilts Rena created, I recall so much more than the process of choosing the fabric and cutting the blocks. I remember what we talked about and how we were feeling that day. I remember her smiling face and how grateful I was that she always laughed at my corny jokes. Mostly I remember how she loved and adored her family.

Rena was an exceptional friend. She was always ready and willing to go along with my crazy ideas. One time we spent the night in a fire house so we could have some uninterrupted sewing time. The absence of hungry husbands, cranky children, dirty dishes and soiled laundry was well worth the discomfort of sleeping in a damp and musty fire hall on a cement floor!

Rena never thought twice about dropping what she was doing because I needed a shoulder to cry on. She was full of sound advice and common sense. She grounded me and made me think. She had an uncanny way of looking at me and knew what I was feeling before I even had a chance to say a word. Like the perfect quilt, our friendship was comfortable, warm and deeply loved, but now a big piece of that quilt is missing. Rena died from cancer on March 25, 2007, at the age of 50, but my memories of her still keep me warm. She truly was a beautiful angel, but . . . I just wasn’t meant to keep her.

Happy Birthday, Karen and Rena!

“Consider it all joy, my brothers, when you encounter various trials, for you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.” — James 1:2-3

Sr. Ann Miriam Gallagher - "Joy, joy, joy, joy in your heart."

There was something about Sr. Ann.  She could get you to do a job for her but somehow you would end up feeling like she was doing you a favor.  It was one of her many amazing gifts — gifts which drew people in droves to her, to the Trinita Family Life Center and all the places she oversaw, and again last week to her funeral.

The huge chapel at The Missionary Servants of the Most Blessed Trinity in Philadelphia was filled beyond capacity.  Like me, they came to face the difficult truth that Sr. Ann is really gone from this life.   I sat in that chapel listening to all the sharing of Sr. Ann’s life, the many prayers for those left behind, and the assurances she is in a better, pain-free place.  I tried to wrap my mind around acceptance as I realized her immense impact on my own life.

One spring, Sr. Ann had put out a call for help with cleaning up the Trinita grounds.  As I reap the many blessing of Trinita, I wanted to do my part, but I loathe outdoor work.  I said to Sr. Ann, “I’ll help, but is there an inside job I could do?”  In my head I’m saying, “Because, you know, I want to be a good Christian, but I draw the line at raking!”  In her loving and understanding way, Sr. Ann assured me there were indoor tasks to be done, too.

So I set aside an afternoon and showed up expecting to iron some curtains or to make up some beds in the cabins.  One word that kept coming up during all the sharing of Sr. Ann at her wake and funeral was “joy.”  Joy permeated all through her and she exuded it with everything she said and did.  It was no different that particular afternoon.  She greeted me with all the enthusiasm of just opening the door to the queen of  England.

“Oh Dottie!  Good news!” she exclaimed.  “We are going to clean the mens’ bathroom!”

I think I said, “Can’t we just rake?”

I remember heading out to the lodge with rubber gloves, scrub brushes and buckets, but I do not remember any of the dirty work.  All I recall was the absolute joy of being with Sr. Ann for an entire afternoon.  We laughed, sang and shared.  I was sorry when we were done, and I was so very grateful for the ‘favor’ she did for me.

Another time I really tried to be prepared for Sr. Ann’s ‘spell.’  I knew I could not refuse her.  My husband came to notice when I was having some free time, it meant Sr. Ann must be out of town!  She had invited me to lunch to discuss a quilt she wanted me to create.  I gave myself a two-hour lecture before hand — “OK.  I’ll make the quilt, but it can’t be anything big because I am too busy right now.  Therefore, I’ll just tell Sr. Ann that I’ll do something small, but . . .”

We sat down at the table in a little local cafe and then Sr. Ann proceeded to say grace, a blessing that seemed to go on for an eternity. 

“Oh Lord . . . thank you for your many blessings . . . and thank you so very much for giving Dottie the gift of quilting . . . and Dear Lord, how wonderful she is to share her gifts with Trinita . . . and Oh Lord bless her as she works . . .  and please, Lord, send the Holy Spirit to give her strength . . .”

Every few seconds I would open one eye to see if the dozen or so business men seated at the long table next to us were still staring at us . . . and they were.

As a result, one of the most artistically challenging quilts I have ever made was born — the memorial quilt for Fr. Vincent, five feet wide and seven feet long!

I sat in the chapel recalling these two experiences and many others as  I sobbed.  Just when I thought there could not possibly be another tear drop left in my body, I shed a thousand more.  Mostly I thought about how it is said, “the best relationships are not based on how you feel about another person, but rather, how the other person makes you feel about yourself.” 

I loved Sr. Ann with all my heart because of how great she was, and I hope I told her that enough times.  In addition, Sr. Ann made me feel like I was the most important person God had ever placed on this Earth.  I would always leave her presence just beaming from ear-to-ear while believing I could accomplish anything.  As I was someone who struggled for many years with low self-esteem, she gave me a priceless gift.  In fact, everything I have done in recent years with quilting and writing have been wrapped in Sr. Ann’s joy.  The message I am trying to convey with my work, “sharing the gifts God gave you” came from her inspiration.  For thirteen years, I witnessed not only her generous sharing, but the sharing of the many volunteers who happily gave of their gifts because of Sr. Ann’s influence. 

Fr. Sittinger, who gave the eulogy, had come to know Sr. Ann during the last couple of years while she was ill.  He said he was constantly amazed how her spirit stayed positive and how she expended what little energy she had to see that others were happy. 

Sr. Ann once said to him, “Father, the Lord gave me the gift of joy and I believe I am meant to share it!”

Sr. Ann, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for sharing. 

Quilt for Fr. Vincent

"We Will Miss You!"