When I was in ninth grade, I was a teacher's assistant for a kindergarten class. At Christmas that year, the teacher gave me a red and white "old maid's puzzle" quilt that she had made just for me. It was beautiful and set in motion a lifelong love of quilts. I never got to sleep under my beautiful quilt, because my then stepmother took it from me and gave it to her friend for Christmas! She even claimed to have made it! (I never forget to sign my quilts for this reason.) I cried every night for what seemed like months. I never told the teacher what had happened to her beautiful gift to me. (Years later, and with a new stepmother, I told the friend the truth about the quilt, but by then the dog had had it for quite a while.)
