This ‘hanging’ is an applique I made for my mother one Christmas, probably close to thirty years ago. Now I hang it on my kitchen door. I can’t use the round quilted tablecloth I made for her, our table’s a rectangle. Christmas at my parents’ home was a fifteen foot live tree, covered in white lights and toys. The memories of two kitchen cabinets full of nothing but cookies my sister and I started making the first week of December, the mantel covered with pine boughs and greens cut from the yard, and the warmth of family still stir my heart.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology