The Patchwork Quilt

I recently discovered this old story I wrote. It’s surprising what was on my mind in 2006.

It’s cold this morning. The temperature has dipped below 30 degrees outside, and a chill pervades the house. As I wait for it to warm up, I grab the small patchwork quilt on the sofa to wrap around me.

My grandmother made it. Not only does it bring me warmth, but it also stirs many memories. The squares are made from remnants of clothing I made in high school. I can’t help but smile as I think about that young woman (me) who once wore those outfits. Even now, her optimism and idealism rush over me.

She believed wholeheartedly in the merits of hard work, liberty and justice for all, and the goodness of people. She was proud that the United States served as a beacon of hope for the world. She believed that our country’s chosen leaders would act in the best interests of the citizens. She was grateful we had a free press to ensure that the truth would always be told.

Today, as a mature woman who’s lived through Watergate, Vietnam, and the Iraqi War, I’m not quite so naïve. I recognize that people and nations act out of self-serving interests. But over the last few years, I’ve seen our system of government corrupted to such an extent that remaining quiet is no longer an option. I am appalled that:

• Our country is seen as a bullying imperial nation intent on rapaciously plundering the other countries for their natural resources and slave-wage labor.

• People around the world see the US as a bigger threat to peace than any other country—even those that our administration has labeled as the Axis of Evil.

• Powerful corporations, lobbying groups and PACs have rewritten the rules of the land to allow them obscene profits at the expense of the middle class, the environment, and other responsibilities.

• The Press, itself now run by mega-corporations, has become a mouthpiece for the administration’s policies instead of guarding our freedom.

• We can so easily go to war against a third-world nation, so long as it serves our needs.

Despite all this, inside, I’m still the young idealist girl who saw what was possible and never gave up on it. I see that I haven’t changed all that much over the years.

Only now, I know that I have a responsibility to create the world I want my children to grow up in. Like me, the millions in the middle are waking up. But we can’t relax just because the leadership is changing. Now we need to be MORE diligent and more vigilant.

My grandma’s patchwork quilt not only warms me but also refreshes my spirit. Even though she is long gone, I still feel her support in my mission to create a better world. So, I’m able to take another step …

P.S. My patchwork quilt finally fell apart after much use and many washings. This square is all I have left. I couldn't let it go.