Before she died Grandmother sewed a patchwork quilt from scraps left over-- this one from a jumper she made for me the summer I broke my arm and couldn't get the cast through shirt sleeves. She tied it all with different colored strings love tied in every knot. Even now I wrap up in the quilt and feel her love surround me from beyond the grave Each year before she dies Grandmother Earth creates a patchwork quilt. The trees turn red and golden satin on the harlequined hills, and the milo fields are rusted corduroy. Strings of blackbirds tie a knot across the seam-edged roads, and even though the breeze is cooler now and often from the north, I feel a comfort that will last throughout the grave of winter. Reprinted with permission Copyright © 1996 by Tamora Whitney