My Amish Quilt

I have a lot of stuff in my house, but one of my favorite things is my Amish quilt. It was quite a splurge to buy it, but it fulfilled a longing I had for many years.  I love the Amish lifestyle and that the women use their quilting time as a way of sharing their lives with one another.

I’d taken very good care of my quilt over the years, in spite of my cat.  Stormy loved to sleep with me, and I’d always find a warm fuzzy spot on my bed when I came home from work. I knew, when I bought that quilt, Stormy would be a challenge.  To protect it, I covered it with a sheet and only took it off when I was home and Stormy had my lap to sit on. The sheet kept the cat hair off and prevented claws from damaging it.

For years I was very successful at protecting my beloved quilt.  I took great pleasure in hand washing it in the tub and hanging it out to dry on warm summer days, just like the Amish. 

Then one day, I forgot to put the sheet over my bed.  I came home from work and there was Stormy, cuddled up next to my pillow, sleeping directly on the quilt.  When he stood up, he began to “knead” the bed.  I could hear the threads snapping under his claws, and I lunged to pull him off the quilt, causing a much bigger snag than if I’d left him alone, I’m sure.  I cried when I saw the threads pulled from the fabric.  I blamed myself and knew I should not be mad at the cat, but it was hard.  My quilt now had a flaw. It was ruined to some degree, and my heart sank.

For the next few weeks, my eyes landed on that spot every time I made the bed and I tried not to be angry. Then, just a few months later, Stormy got sick and died and there wasn’t a cat sleeping on my bed anymore.  No more sheet patrol, no more cat hair, no more Stormy.  It was a tremendous sorrow.  I realized soon thereafter that all my stuff is just “stuff” - but living things are what matter most.  I would have traded that quilt in a heartbeat, just to have Stormy back.  The snag in the quilt actually became more meaningful than the quilt itself because it was an endearing reminder of a cat I so deeply loved.

My quilt now has character and a history.  Protecting it from harm all those years almost made it a bit too perfect and sterile - not at all like me.  I like it much better with flaws.

I’ve since adopted that lesson to all my “treasures” that get damaged by someone else.  Rather than be angry about the damage, I smile at the thought of the person that caused it, because someday, they may not be around either.