Sometimes she would help me by embroidering a face or two. There are happy faces, sad faces, mad faces, funny faces and some that are down right scary.
It wouldn't be worth quilting, but I think I will keep it anyway. I have grown attached to those wild little faces and the memories they hold.
I have since made quite a few quilts and am a member of the local quilt club.
Maybe my mother knew what she was doing after all.