Standing
in front of the 17x20 inch friendship quilt, windmill blocks in gray,
red and yellow; my husband says, “I am wondering if the names will
last?” The names were of women I had built friendships with years
ago; we all liked making quilts and collecting fabric. These women
stitched together the blocks of this sweet little friendship quilt
and signed their names. Whether or not the writing on the quilt
fades, their names hold a precious place in my heart. This quilt is a
reminder of the kinds of activities I found helpful in piecing
together a community of friends.
My
photo album has a page dedicated to this small group of ladies. There
we sit, all but one, on the church pew in my little house in Antioch,
CA. It brings a smile to my face. Where is Cathy B? It could be she
is taking the photo. How sad that I didn’t think to trade places
with her and get a photo with her in it. The quilt draped across us
was the friendship quilt we pieced for Dori H.
Dori
was wise; she chose a larger quilt for us to contribute to and it
graced her bed for a number of years. We have all moved away from the
Bay area. Cathy and I have reconnected in the past year since we live
closer to one another now. She told me she still has her quilt, each
block a bear, hanging on her guest room wall. Ladies, I think we need
a reunion. Can we work on that?
Our
fellowship was comprised of Cathy, Deena, Dori, Karen and myself. It
seems we tried to meet once a month, and I only remember us gathering
regularly just long enough for each of us to receive a quilt. At
least I hope all of you got one. I am not sure whose idea it was, but
I loved it! It was one of the ways I enjoy building friendships with
girlfriends.
It
wasn’t the first time I had a group of friends who gathered as
such; it was like being in a club. When I was a child I loved the
idea of having a club, so I started one; the old, abandoned chicken
coop out in the woods at grandma and grandpa’s farm was the club
house. Of course I was president of the club; I cast the deciding
vote. It was short-lived, maybe because I wouldn’t allow anyone
else to be president.
Growing
up I left behind the club without purpose in the chicken coop (I know
some of you are laughing) and started forming groups around shared
interests. When I was in my 20s I found myself in a lonely place. So
I invited all my new friends to gather with me once a month to do
hand work and eat. Each month we took turns hosting and feeding the
group. Each lady brought a project she was working on and we created
while yakking it up. It was memorable for me. I loved those evenings
of eating what someone else cooked, planning a special meal when I
hosted, getting to know each other better and making progress on a
project. It gave me a sense of belonging.
Another
time the need for connection drove me to start a Bible study in my
home. I looked forward to seeing everyone each week, breaking bread
and encouraging one another in prayer. My friendships deepened. There
were years of gathering with a few to do pen and ink or sorting
photos and designing scrapbook pages.
It
seems those lovely years went by so fast. There are times now when
some fun idea for connecting begins to bud in my mind and quickly
dies before bearing fruit in the struggle to find a slot on the
calendar and squeezing it in. Yes, I still get together with others
for fellowship, but so many don’t seem to have time to commit to a
monthly gathering. It’s like we work, serve, sleep and start over.
Making time for meaningful fellowship and having fun together seems
nearly impossible these days. It’s sad. My life has be sweetened by
these gatherings. Throughout the years I have had occasion to
reconnect with women who were part of one of these groups and we
always pick up where we left off.
There
are times when each of us is presented a gift of spontaneity. For
example, three women friends of mine were trying every which way to
get together. One had to live out of a hotel while her home was being
repaired. There were so many complications she couldn’t find a way
to meet. So we decided to meet her at the hotel with picnic basket in
tow. I purchased some delicious salad kits (as opposed to the not so
delicious kind) and dark chocolate. I put it together in a picnic
basket, along with my grandma’s depression ware plates. We had a
lovely time on the lawn eating our picnic and visiting.
Working
around such diverse schedules can be a challenge, but we have to
think outside the box. What are some ways you have found for bringing
friends together? How do you make meaningful connections when it
seems no one has time? Not only do we need to take advantage of the
moments presented to us, but maybe it is time we make more room in
our schedules to build relationships. Really, everything we do for
anyone is multiplied in worth by the time we have invested in
building the relationship. What do you say, shall we try being with
others more than doing for others?
Julie, such great memories and a reminder of blessed friendships. Thank you for taking the time to write and remember the value of friends who walk the journey with us. I know you all helped with my big quilt in the picture. I used until on my bed until the fabric unraveled and the batting came out the seams. I also have a little quilt that everyone contributed a block to. It has all our names and I still treasure it!
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