By Ruth O. Brown © 1986
Issue: April, 1986
In a cabin in the Blue Ridge Mountains
Grandma was born in eighteen ninety-five,
On cold zero nights, her mother's warm quilts
Were all that kept the family alive.
She was only ten when she pieced a quilt
She felt quite daring and so bold,
Dozens of quilts she has made since then
Each one a masterpiece to behold.
Yet today, still living in those mountains
She sews slowly but with patience and care,
She's sewing a quilt for a great grandchild
As she rocks in her old rocking chair.