As a child in rural Alabama, this routine restored memories of the first quilt I ever made. You never questioned if you should learn, it was a matter of when. And just maybe, we would have fewer troubled youth today. Searching for a quilt with an ethnic feel, I went to several department stores. As Grandma used to say, "Idle hands beget the devil's work. Wrapped in my grandmother's gift, I feel her presence. This article courtesy of timelessquilting. I found nothing that appealed to my sense of color, style and culture - nothing that spoke to my soul." At nine, you don't relate to that sentiment. . She sits atop her new surroundings proudly, beckoning me, as if to admonish my chiffon fabric Wholesalers idle hands. Though I possess the skill, it was rarely put to use. But as I designed, cut, and sewed, the hours zoomed by. Now that Zola (my sewing machine) has unleashed her magical powers, she refuses to occupy her once familiar place in the bottom of my old college trunk. Now, my nephew of nine sleeps on that same quilt. I am convinced that if today's youth were taught to occupy their hands with more than buttons on a video game, they would learn patience, pride, and develop confidence. I was nine and in fourth grade. Around this time, my grandmother made a quilt for each of her grandchildren as a Christmas gift. Cutting and stitching, there is a powerful rebirthing of a time gone by - the smell of honeysuckle on a fence, the clang of cow bells heard from the field, watermelon juice circling the curve of a sticky, ashy elbow. I felt as if I was lost in a good book, only I decided the characters, the plot, the ending. Hair askew, laughing in her lap, I'm nine again, with all its incumbent joys. One day, while shopping for a quilt, I went back to my roots. So, I gave up, went to an African fabric store, selected fabrics, and made my own. You may freely reprint this article on your website or in your newsletter provided this courtesy notice and the author name and URL remain intact.com. There are days when I tell Zola to leave me alone, but in no time at all the fabrics in all their fanciful colors and patterns beckon, and we are one again, creating in unison, literally sewing the seeds of our destiny. While making my most recent quilt, I rediscovered that quilting is more than sewing, it's a bond from generation to generation. Tattered and re-stitched in several places, it remains a familial favorite. As a southern girl, sewing was a rite of passage.