Dear Quilting Friend... Following are a few fragments from the QuiltersVillage story. Although I regret that a complete text of the Village Story is not available, these snippets may give you some food for thought while piecing together your own Village quilt.
Enjoy! --Emily
The Quiltmaker's House
The Quiltmaker's house sat at the end of a long lane filled with flowers.
There were stories--there always are in small towns--about the Quiltmaker's house and how it came to be. Some said the house had always been there, before the Village or even a road had appeared. There was just the little yellow house, and a path through the meadow leading toward the forest and hills beyond.
No one knew exactly when the first Quiltmaker had come. But she had stayed in the house in the meadow, piecing and patching as people came and went, watching the Village grow and the meadow shrink back from the world. She sold her quilts and stitched goods at the Village market, along with natural remedies made from herbs she gathered in the woods. People came to rely on her common sense as much as her quilting. She was a cornerstone, of sorts, as essential to the Village as stitches in a quilt.
Generations of Quiltmakers grew up in the little yellow house, each one learning from the last how to cut and piece and applique. History was handed down in the form of faded patterns and finished quilts. Some said entire lives were sandwiched between the layers of cotton and batting.
I don't think they were far from wrong.
Sadie was the latest in the long line of Quiltmakers. She and her sister Elizabeth grew up in the little yellow house, learning stitches and practicing their piecing side by side. They were the best of friends, the closest of sisters, until he came to town.
He was Bradley Benton. Tall and trim, he caught the eye of almost every young girl in the Village. Every girl but Sadie, that is. For some reason that she couldn't--or wouldn't--tell, Sadie didn't seem to like the bright young man and this, of course, drove a wedge between the two sisters. Elizabeth fell head over heels for Bradley Benton.
I think the whole village turned out for the wedding. Elizabeth's dowry of thirteen quilts decorated the church, and drew quite a crowd in itself. Hand-pieced and hand-quilted, patterns ranged from a simple nine-patch to a complex compass design. But everyone agreed that the most stunning of all was an exquisite floral applique.
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