by Gail Jackson

Jennie, my wonderful mother-in-law, made lots of clothes for our children when they were small.

And, having lived through the Depression and other hard times, she had learned to save all the scraps, even the teeny ones which I deemed unusable.
In later years Jennie decided she wanted to learn to quilt. Being very brave, she tackled an intricate pattern which I think is called “cathedral window.” I’m quite sure it wasn’t what would be considered a beginner’s pattern. With urging of friends, she entered it in Brigham City, Utah’s county fair and took second place.

She was so tickled with her award she placed the white award ribbon and the 50 cent prize money in a small dime-store frame. When she passed on in 1988 we discovered a surprise treasure secured on the frame’s back. Jennie had taped the congratulatory postcard I had mailed to her when she won the prize, and a handwritten note saying that upon her death the quilt was to go to me. For years the quilt adorned our bed, and the award hung by it. At this time it graces a guest room bed.

I still love to look at this quilt and allow the flood of memories its tiny windows evoke–the tiny windows created from what I perceived as useless scraps. When the time comes, our only daughter will share this heirloom with her only daughter.

What Jennie didn’t make our kids, I did! I can actually remember the only dresses we bought for Heidi– a charcoal colored corduroy sailor-style when she was a year old, a red, white and navy plaid, cut on the bias, when she started kindergarten, and a white eyelet Easter dress when she was 14. (What is it they say about long term memory?)

I think I can safely speak for others in saying that when we are young and in the thick of demanding and daily “now” things we don’t see beyond the immediate. Sadly I didn’t keep the scraps from all colorful clothes I sewed and how often, now in my later years, have wished I had.

I would never have had the patience to make an intricately hand-pieced quilt but I could have painted a scenic wall hanging with my fabric snips or cut them into simple shapes and appliquéd them on a small bed topper. Today we are not even limited to hand sewing. There is even fusing web if a sewing machine is not your idea of fun.

Years ago I tore a page from a magazine of a quilt made of fairly large squares, each appliquéd with a simple sitting cat silhouette cut from different fabrics. How easy to make memories when you use pieces of fabric from your past projects cut into the shape of something you or the intended recipient loves.

Years ago I was desperate to bring life to a windowless basement room. Using fabric scraps I created a cheerful scene to fit a inside a second-hand window frame. I even hung curtains on it. It did the job but would have been so much more had I had personal scraps to use.

Two other quilts provide great memories for us. The first is made up of 12” muslin quilt squares, each prepared by a member of one of our previous wards; each created using their own special talents, with their own individual personalities showing through. They were made using embroidery, appliqué, fabric paint, and even permanent markers – some very elaborate and some amazingly simple but each invoking wonderful reminders of the years we shared with their creators.

The second is one I put together from grain sacks gathered on our mission to the remote islands of Kiribati in the central Pacific Ocean. These aren’t the pretty flowered sacks of our grandmother’s day, but simple ones stamped in red and blue with the logos of the only two companies that supplied the nation with its rice and wheat. On the islands, these sacks are used for their curtains and their shorts. Our quilt is a simply-made memory of the simple lives of the people we served.

The summer before one of our granddaughters started kindergarten I helped my daughter-in-law make her school clothes. And, finally, I saved the scraps!
Not long after, I came across an article about pioneer women cutting their fabric remains into strips and rolling them into balls to save for making rag rugs. The article suggested doing that and filling a basket with them as a decorative piece.

The following Christmas I cut the school fabric in strips, bought six Styrofoam balls, and covered them to replicate fabric balls. I coated them with Modge Podge, a glue like coating that dries clear and is available in craft stores, and added narrow ribbon as trim and as a bow on top. With a gold marking pen I wrote the year on one of the ribbon sections and gave them to her to hang on her tree. Each year, as she helps decorates the tree, fading memories are brought back to life.

Hopefully the above has sparked ideas for scrapping your own memories.