And yet one other part of her legacy remained: Sylvia herself, and all that she recalled, and all that she had yet to discover.
Gazing at the quilt that had so long eluded her, Sylvia resolved to gather the precious scraps of her mother's history and piece them together until a pattern emerged, until she understood as well as any daughter could the choices her mother had made. She had no daughter to pass those stories along to, but she had Sarah, and she had Andrew's children, and among them she would surely find one who would listen, so that her mother's memory would endure.
She would begin by setting the record straight.
“Your booklet is incorrect,” Sylvia told Claire. “I don't know for certain how your Amelia Langley Davis knew the quiltmaker, but I do know who she was.”
She turned back to face the quilt, her grief forgotten. She had found the New York Beauty at last, and with it, a small portion of her mother's history. For years and years to come, the New England Quilt Museum would share her mother's quilt with the world, and soon, also, the story of the woman whose hopes and dreams and longings still lingered in the soft fabric, in the gentle colors, in the intricate stitches, like the last fading notes of a song.
“My mother made this quilt,” said Sylvia, and though Claire regarded her skeptically, Sylvia smiled, knowing that in a moment, Claire would turn over the quilt to reveal the initials and date Eleanor Lockwood Bergstrom had embroidered so many years ago, as if she had known this day would come.
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
The Quilter's Legacy Page 31
