Sugar looked at the tattered edges of her patchwork quilt. Grace had sewn it from fragments of shirts and dresses Sugar had worn in her Macon childhood. It was her most prized possession, particularly now that she was so many miles away in China.
She then began sewing a quilt for her own soon-to-be-born baby from fragments of her old clothes she had thrown into her remnant bin.
As she trimmed her old shirts into small triangles and squares, she dreamed of the day she’d be able to hug, kiss and love her baby in ways her parents never had.