I like to be creative, combining several things for a fabulous outcome. Get the most “bang for the buck” so to speak. While working on my own healing and spiritual path I created the Blessing of the Quilts. To clear my clutter and open space for new growth, I decided to recycle the scraps that were left from my previous sewing business. I had half a brain’s worth of clutter. I mean good fabric waiting to be something wonderful for someone else. When I had my business, the scraps (some more than six yards long) were eventually used in some way. At that time it was not a scrap pile, it was my personal stash – a collectors dream. Now it was taking up space – not only in my house, but in my life. There was so much time involved in dealing with it while packing and unpacking when I moved. (I had already made two moves with it and knew I would be moving again the following year.) This fabric was also good fabric, too good to just throw out. I had previously offered all of it to several sewing groups in my town – who turned it down. This is absolutely unheard of in sewing circles – turning down fabric- what were they thinking?! Then, it hit me — ta da! Clear my clutter by making it a blessing for someone else. This fabric needed to be made into quilts for The Denver Children’s Hospital.
When I started the project I was just making quilts. Throughout the months of making them the project grew or shall I say evolved. What was interesting was that previously when I sewed, I always listened to the radio. However, from the very beginning when I worked on these quilts, it was different. I worked in silence, often spending the day in prayer for the children who would receive them. I came to understand that the fabric was not accepted by the groups to whom I had offered it because this project needed to be done and I was the one to do it.
I started to intuitively receive information about the children who would be receiving the quilts – seeing, hearing, feeling, sensing, and knowing. These children all needed so much love and healing. I had fabric stacked on my table, chest high, double wide rows, covering the entire length of my 110” table. That was just the start. In the middle of choosing fabrics and piecing together what I thought I was making I would hear “no not that – she or he does not like that color. Get that piece in the pile over there.” I was always surprised because the fabric to which I was led was usually one that I had not seen and about which I had forgotten. The color combinations became things I would not have put together – some very unusual for me. As I worked, if I tried to go with something other than what I heard, it did not work. It would be either just a few inches short of what was needed or the sewing machine would freeze up. I quickly learned that whatever I heard I might as well do, because anything else would not work no matter what I did. Once I began listening to instructions, the information started flowing. The information was definite – “today we’re making one for a little girl or this one is for a little boy.” I learned about the children — the Navajo baby boy from one of the Dakotas, a little boy from Minnesota, many for preemies, some age two or four. There was a three-four year old little girl whose quilt was quite plain. I kept thinking I needed to change the back so it would just be plain on the front when I “heard” that hers was a brain issue and she could not tolerate looking at too much. There were preemie twins, a boy and a girl. All I knew was that she was struggling more than he was. There was an African American girl who likes soft and pink – hers was made with satins and velvets. Every quilt was meant for a specific child, the stories of each unfolded as the quilts came together.