My Mother won a quilt in an auction while visisting my brother out west and brought it back with her. She was so happy and excited. She gave it to me. I thought it was ugly. Well, I'm a quiltmaker and how one can have sibling rivalry with a quilt I don't know, but I did,(she never beamed at the quilts I made...). I put the quilt on a top shelf of the closet and there it stayed. When my Mother passed away suddenly I took down the quilt. It was bright and happy and handstitched (something I don't do), and I could see my Mother's excitement and happiness just looking at it. I put it on my bed and it is still there today. Whenever I put it around me it is a hug from her. I guess what I'm saying is that a quilt doesn't have to be perfect or even made by the person who gives it to you. Just given with love. It doesn't need to be abused to be loved, just appreciated, and loved back.
bev.