A freshly finished quilt shows love. The love of the person who designed the pattern, picked the fabrics and sewed the quilt. But love is supposed to be shared, that’s its purpose, it does no good if kept to ourselves. We are to give it away freely and unconditionally.
This is what I see in a threadbare well used quilt. Shared love. The giver and the receiver blessed by the exchange of love. In the crookedness of a seam or a wornout binding, the acceptance of each other’s faults. This is why I delight in the character of age and imperfection. It’s tangible proof that unconditional love exists.