The Tale of an Amish Quilt: One Quilt's Personal Journey (part 2)
Once I was complete and could officially be called an Amish quilt, I wore that honor with pride. Mother said it was time that I leave the only home I had known and be sent out into the world to be admired and loved by a new family. The thought of leaving mother was a frightening one, but the anticipation I felt knowing that I was meant for a new, yet unknown family, made me giddy with excitement. Mother packed me up in a hand-sewn bag she made to protect me on my travels and we set off in search of my new life outside our small community. We arrived at a small Amish market that sold Amish quilts, cedar chests, wooden toys, fresh preserves, and other handcrafted products the Amish men and women made to sell to tourists and other local residents. I was hung on a rack with other Amish quilts and put on display for all my potential owners to see. I learned over the weeks that I spent in the shop that I was part of a tradition that has been around for almost 150 years and knew this kind of workmanship was highly sought after by the non-Amish or 'English' members of the outside community. I displayed myself with all the pride my Amish mother had given me and prepared myself for what life might wait for me outside the Amish community.
Hundreds of potential buyers looked at me and commented on my beautiful dark colors and traditional Amish design of geometric shapes. Some other Amish quilts were bought that were hung next to me, but I knew my chance would come soon. It was strange to see all the people came in to gawk at the way the Amish lived and I realized that the outside world was much different than the one I had been created in. Finally, a woman with a strange accent and clothing that indicated she was not from the area looked at me with such love and desire that I knew she was the one I was meant for. She ran her hands across my top coat lovingly and commented on the fine stitching and attention to detail that she had never seen before in manufactured quilts. I was then taken down from my rack and put back into the hand-sewn bag and headed off to meet the family that I would spend the rest of my days with.
After several long days of travel, I was finally removed from my sack and I got to see my new home for the very first time. It was so different from the one I had been used to in the Amish community. The walls were painted in a variety of colors and everything around me seemed to buzz with what I eventually learned was electricity. The rooms were brightly lit and there were so many noises that surrounded me from the television, radio, video games, and people that seemed to always be dashing in and out. It was quite different from the quiet and simple life I had been used to, but it was exciting nonetheless and I enjoyed the constant activity that surrounded me. My new family laid me out on a bed that had been waiting for me to arrive since they had moved into the home. Fancy pillows were placed near the head of the bed and my folds and wrinkles were smoothed out by the loving hands of my new city mother. This has been my home ever since. I enjoy living here because I feel the love and appreciation that my new family has for me every time a new visitor or new guest arrives. Mother shows me off with pride as she explains to them that I am an authentic Amish quilt and it makes me beam with pride.
The Tale of an Amish Quilt: One Quilt's Personal Journey (part 1)