Quilting is a huge thing in my family. For as long as I can remember, everyone has had at least one in their home. They feel like magic to me. They are so warm and embody the essence of love and care into each woven square of fabric. I’ve never doubted that God existed and my first time realizing he was real was most likely under those blankets. I can recall when I was younger, maybe 5 or 6, that it would take my mom or dad sitting next to me in bed with their hand on me for me to go to sleep. I needed to feel that…