I had grown up slumbering beneath patchwork quilts made by my mom. I remember recognizing old work shirts from the farm, cut into squares in many of her quilting projects.

Always one to make use of everything; that was my parsimonious mom. At the time of her death, I had several of her creations in the home of my first marriage. Strangely, and unfairly, all but one of those quilts disappeared when that marriage disintegrated during the timeframe of mom’s death. The remaining quilt is too fragile to place anywhere but on a display stand just outside the door of my childhood bedroom where I now seclude myself at night.

Just inside the door to my bedroom is a framed, 8’ x 10’, cross-stitched artwork with the words: “When life gives you scraps, make a quilt.” It was made for me by a dear patient in West Virginia, shortly after mom was killed. I do not remember the name of the lady who made it, but I can recall the day she brought it into my clinic office and offered me her condolences.

I barely knew her … just one of my many patients. I knew very little of her family, her life, her story. Most of what I knew of her was her medical history and diagnosis. But she knew me and recognized my pain. She had the insight to comfort me with those words immortalized in cross stitching that would last as long as I wanted it to. Just another reason and memory I love about my Appalachian second heritage home.

That folksy saying has inspired me and comforted me many nights, just like those quilts I speak of. I have learned of two other passages about quilts or sewing that make me smile. They are displayed on the wall of my friend Loenza’s sewing room. She is a quilting addict, just like my mom was. We often talk about their shared interests as she shows me many of her completed creations.

The first is: “If someone tells you that you have enough fabric, don’t speak to them ever again. You don’t need that kind of negativity in your life!” My sister in law, Kathy, owns a fabric store here in Preston and I can see that statement being on display in her store, just for fun.

Followed up by: “I sew a piece of my heart into every quilt I make.” This thought makes me feel emotional as I picture my mom, my grandma, my mother in law, my wife and my fabric obsessed friends saying it. The first quote is a bit more humorous but I can hear them giggling at hearing it for the first time.

There are many kinds of “scraps” that life can throw at us. By nature, one would assume that the term “scraps” carries with it sadness, something tragic or life changing. But I propose a slight variation on this line of thinking. Life changing, yes, is definitely part of the “scraps” definition, but it doesn’t have to be negative. Why can’t it be a positive “scrap?”

Imagine a quilt that is composed of all the happy things that happen to us. Grandchildren’s photos or birthdates come to mind. Or photos and memories of family vacations and celebrations. I realize that the scraps that are not so happy can be used to strengthen our faith or resolve to not just survive but thrive. I know that my West Virginia friend had that fact in mind when she made that gift for me. I appreciated her sympathy at the time. Somehow, she knew my pain and my loneliness, being so far away from family when this event occurred.

I wish I could remember her name. It has been a few months more than 30 years ago that she presented the stitchwork to me. Chances are, she has also passed away by now. But … if she can hear me, to her I say … Thank you, thank you … JOB WELL DONE!