BOOK DETAILS

The Quilts of Love Tales from the Smoke House (Tales of the Smoke House)

The Quilts of Love Tales from the Smoke House (Tales of the Smoke House)

by Mr Franklin P Smith

ISBN: 9781492910473

Publisher CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform

Published in Children & Teens (Young Adult)

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Book Description

Seven short stories where the quilt speaks telling about its feelings and path in their life. Tales a person about life.

Sample Chapter

The Quilt That Was Rejected

I lay in a corner for so long.
    
I knew that I was different because of the way that they were talking about me and how I was created. 

“No, No!  It’s supposed to be a single stitch not a triple.  The triple stitch goes on the outside of the quilt.  Look!  See what you have done.  Sewed the square upside down!  Oh, we’ll just throw it to the side and you can call this one a practice one.”

I don’t know how many quilts were made and given to different people.  I heard how each quilt made a difference in the life quality of whoever used them.  This made me feel rejected because no one had wanted to give me to anyone.

I resigned myself to the fact that I would probably never leave this place.  My only positive aspect was that I was bigger than any of the other quilts.  The reason for this is that I was used for practice before any new person was given the opportunity to sew on a new quilt.  Each person would sew two rows of squares on me and now I had over 26 in a single row.

There came that fateful day when I heard them talking about me.  “You know no one will want this quilt.  It has different fabric on every square, there is really no order in the color scheme, and some of the pieces of cloth have been sewed with wrong side up.  The stitching is not the same on any of the rows and the lines are not even straight!  It’s not fit to be given away.”

 “I know that I wouldn’t have it on my bed,” another person piped in.
 
Yes, this did hurt.  Maybe they would just cut me up and use me for rags.  It would be better than just lying around and doing nothing.

“I’ll take it to the shelter tomorrow night,” a familiar voice said.

I knew that voice.  He was the one who had sewed an “X” on one of my squares to get to the other side of the square.  I did understand then that he was new then, and wondered what role that he was going to have with me now.  Was he going to just throw me away, cut me up for rags, or even better use me in another quilt!

“I’ll take it to the shelter.  They surely have a use for it.  Cold weather is coming and they have families that sleep together!  The quilt is so big that four people can sleep underneath it and keep warm during the night.”

There was an eerie quietness in the room.

The next thing I knew was that I was being picked up.  I was to large for any regular box that they had around so I was just thrown in the back seat of his car.  I rode around for a long time - days even weeks before I was taken out.

While riding around, I had time to think.  I thought about lying in the corner all those months and years watching all those other quilts going out the door.  At least I had not been cut up for rags or thrown into the trash.  However, this didn’t help my feelings.  They hadn’t wanted me.

One evening, the man whose car I had been riding in, pulled me out.  I was so big that he dragged me on the ground.

As I entered this building, I could hear children screaming at the top of their lungs and people talking in every direction.  I was placed on a bench in the hallway.  Half of me was on the floor.  I was there for a long time before a stranger came by and picked me up.  I was taken into a well-lit room with three children lying on a mat.

“Here’s a big warm quilt, that will keep you all warm tonight,” a voice said in a low soft voice.

“I’ll come back in a minute,” the person said.

 They took one end of me and spread me out letting me fall on the children.  I did my best not to totally cover these little creatures.

“Wow!” two of the children yelled as my cloth touched them.  The third child remained silent. 

“Its time for bed.  I’ll be right back,” the woman said.

I could feel the excitement of these small people that were underneath me.  It seemed that they couldn’t stay still.  There were two very small boys and one little girl.  The boys were pinching the little girl, but she was getting her licks in.  The woman came back, and not too soon either because they were getting me worried to what they might do to me.  I never experienced anything like this before.

“Its bed time.  It’s time to settle down.”  “  Settle down and I'll tell you about this quilt.  You see this is a special quilt.  Some special people who make quilts gave it to us.  This quilt is made with loving and caring hands.  Special cloth is used in making each square so it can keep you warm at night.  They call it the Quilt of Love.  Only a special few people are given this kind of quilt.  For you see when you get underneath this quilt all those loving hands that made this quilt are hugging you and telling you are loved.”

The next morning I was thrown aside in a corner.  The children that slept underneath me were gone.  It did seem like old times but I felt different.  The children had given me something special that night.  I was taken into a different room.  There, I was laid out and two little girls crawled underneath my fabric.

They were not excited like the other children had been but were very quiet and scared of something.  The same woman came into the room and told them the same story about me.  I could feel the little girls become calm.  This gave me a sense of purpose that night while these children slept but in the morning I was thrown into another corner just like before.  I did not like this one bit but what alternative did I have in this matter?

This was going to be the pattern for the rest of my life.  This happened day in and day out.  I grew to look forward to the evening knowing what my role would be that night.

One morning, I was not thrown in a corner.  I was put into a washing machine, but I stopped the machine.

I could hear the people around the machine debating what to do with me.  I had to be washed.  I had become dirty and stinking.  With this many people using me, I had to be clean or the children that used me would not stay underneath my warm fabric.

“I’ll take it,” a voice came from the other room.

Fear came over me.  I would probably be thrown in the trash.  I was too large for any ordinary washer or dryer.  I recognized the voice as that of the woman who would come into the room and talk to the children about me.  

The next thing I knew, I was in the back seat of a car again but I only stayed there just a short time.  I was taken to a special place and into a very large washing machine and dried afterwards.  I felt like I had never felt before.

I was taken back to same place and the events occurred like they had before.  I was happy for I had found my purpose in life.  Yet, I wasn’t picked up for days.  I began to worry.

“Let’s play going camping!” the woman shouted out who taken me to be cleaned.

I could hear many children voices screaming back at her.  She unfolded me and placed me over three chairs that were four or three feet apart.  I wondered what was happening as she dragged me over the chairs.

Suddenly, I experienced something that none of the other quilts will ever experience.  All the children took turns crawling underneath me.  Some were screaming because of the darkness but after a couple of minutes one by one, they would crawl out laughing.  Each was telling the others “Let’s do that again.”  I would experience this occurrence nearly every night and afterwards I would be folded up and put in my corner for the night.  Months later, I was spread out and the children would crawl underneath me.  Some would giggle, some would be excited, and some were afraid of me.  The woman would come in tell the children about me, and they would calm down and sleep peacefully.  I cannot tell you how long this has gone on but I have enjoyed every day and night.  One day, I noticed my ends were getting frayed and worn.  I started to think again of those bad things that might happen to me.

I knew that I had no power over what would happen to me.  I had done what I was supposed to do - to give both warmth and a sense of security to the children who encountered me.  Yet, I had done more probably than the other quilts that had been made.

I knew the day would come, sooner than I hope, when I would when I would be thrown away forever.

“I’m gonna to take this large quilt.  It’s seen its better days and it will not be back,” said the woman that had taken me first to get cleaned and had told the children about me.

I was put into her car.  During my ride, I tried to come to terms with my fate.  I wondered where I would be taken, to the trash or just thrown on the side of the road?

I still had the satisfaction of knowing that I had played a role in the lives of others beyond my expectations.  

I was surprised that I was put into the cleaners one more time.  I thought at the time it was nice of this woman to clean me before she put me in the trash.  Another surprise!  After I was cleaned, I was taken to a home.  One evening this woman picked me up and started to fix my loose threads, trim my frayed edge and sew my edge until I looked and felt like new.

The next evening, I was placed on a very, very large bed.  To my surprise, I was a perfect fit for where I was placed.  I have lain there during each day of the year.  In cold weather, I warm the two people who slip underneath me.  When I am not used, I am folded neatly and placed at the bottom of the bed.  Occasionally I hear a different voice that will come into the room where I am.  They always make a comment about how beautiful or lovely I am.  My owner now tells them, “This quilt was once rejected by everyone.”

Excerpted from "The Quilts of Love Tales from the Smoke House (Tales of the Smoke House)" by Mr Franklin P Smith. Copyright © 0 by Mr Franklin P Smith. Excerpted by permission. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher. Excerpts are provided solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
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