In fact, there were a lot of small sinks; you could see where thumbs and fingers had sunk into the wood.It was beautiful light yellow wood, from a tree that grew in the yard where Big Dee and Stash had lived.After dinner Dee (Wangero) went to the trunk at the foot of my bed and started rifling through it.Maggie hung back in the kitchen over the dishpan. Out came Wangero with two quilts.They had been pieced by Grandma Dee and then Big Dee and me had hung them on the quilt frames on the front porch and quilted them.One was in the Lone Star pattern.The other was Walk Around the Mountain.In both of them were scraps of dresses Grandma Dee had worn fifty and more years ago.Bit sand pieces of Grandpa Jarrell's Paisley shirts.And one teeny faded blue piece, about the size of a penny matchbox, that was from Great Grandpa Ezra's uniform that he wore in the Civil War.Mama, Wangero said sweet as a bird.Can I have these old quilts?I heard something fall in the kitchen, and a minute later the kitchen door slammed.Why don't you take one or two of the others? I asked.These old things was just done by me and Big Dee from some tops your grandma pieced before she died.No, said Wangero. I don't want those. They are stitched around the borders by machine.That'll make them last better, I said.
