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The Village Story
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The Benton's
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After Elizabeth married Bradley Benton, they moved into an old two-story house down the road from the Quiltmaker's House where Elizabeth grew up. The house had sat empty and neglected for a few years, but had plenty of room for the big family they both said they wanted. The newlyweds worked hard, cleaning and painting the worn-out wooden structure, and Elizabeth warmed the house into a home.
Money was tight for the newlyweds, but Elizabeth was an expert at pin-pointing flea-market finds, turning trash into treasure, and generally 'making do'. She hung up quilts instead of curtains, turned tin cans into container gardens, and cut Bradley's old shirts into quilt pieces. They were expecting their first child in a few months, and Elizabeth was happy.
Sadie was shocked when Elizabeth burst into the little yellow Quiltmaker's House, tears in her eyes. "We're moving," she sobbed, and Sadie wrapped her arms around her. It was sudden. Bradley had been offered a new job down south. Better pay and benefits promised a better life for the young couple and the family they were starting, but Elizabeth was torn. She had lived her whole life in the Village.
Sadie helped her sister pack. Everything went into cardboard boxes, marked 'kitchen' or 'clothing' or 'linens'. When it was done, there was only one battered little box marked 'quilts'. "I won't have time once the baby comes," Elizabeth explained, leaving Sadie with a stash of fabrics, books and patterns. "You'll use it, won't you?"
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"Of course I will," Sadie promised.
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Sadie was true to her word, though not in the way Elizabeth expected. The first package arrived as soon as Bradley and Elizabeth were settled in their new home. There was no return address, no note of explanation. But Elizabeth knew almost immediately that it was Sadie that sent the box of "quilting care".
It was a treasure trove for Elizabeth. Five fat quarters rolled into tubes and tied with ribbon, several spools of thread, a yard of this, two yards of that. Batting at the bottom, along with several of her favorite quilting magazines. It was like a hug from home, in a plain brown wrapper.
The packages kept coming, at a rate of about one every month. Sadie never owned up to being the sender, but every once in while, she'd get a letter with no return address, no note inside. Just a folded quilt block, made from some very familiar fabric.
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I guess that's what sisters are for.
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