Miriam's Quilt Read Free

Callie and Isaac.
    “Pull it out, Callie,” Mamm said. “Make a square corner. Miriam, how was work?”
    “Wonderful-gute. We sold seven quilts,” Miriam said, helping Isaac with his pillowcase.
    Callie pulled the edge of the sheet from under the mattress and fanned it up and down. “I can’t do the corners right.”
    “I’ll help,” Miriam said. “Tuck it under the end of the bed first. Good. Now pull out the corner. Make a little fold. Jah, like that. And under.”
    Mamm examined Callie’s perfectly mitered sheet corner. “Very good, Callie.”
    Miriam mussed Callie’s hair and pulled him in for a kiss on the cheek. He dodged her lips and giggled.
    “Do you want me to start supper?” Miriam said.
    “There is meat loaf in the icebox and potatoes,” Mamm said. “I was about to stick them in the stove. But will you check on your sister? She looked out of sorts when she came in from work today.”
    Miriam seized Callie around the shoulders and gave him a big kiss on the cheek.
    “Hey!” he protested.
    Miriam simply smiled and waltzed out the door. At nearly nine years old, soon Callie wouldn’t allow kisses at all. She had to steal them while she could.
    Miriam was the oldest child of Mamm and Dat’s left at home. Her two older brothers, Marvin and David, were married and both lived in Ohio. Marvin had two children, and David had married in January. An eight-year gap fell between twins Yost and Susie and little brothers Callie, Isaac, and Raymond. “You take them as they come,” Mamm had always said.
    Miriam knocked softly on Susie’s bedroom door.
    “Who is it?” said her sister.
    “Are you alright?”
    “Cum reu .”
    A pair of twin beds sat in the small bedroom Miriam shared with Susie. Burgundy-and-navy Log Cabin quilts covered each bed. Miriam and Susie had made the quilts together four years ago. Miriam still loved to walk into the room and let the rich colors saturate her senses.
    Susie must have just washed her hair. She sat on the edge of the bed clutching a towel and letting her hair drip onto her clothes and the bed. Her eyes were red and swollen, and she sniffled at regular five-second intervals while staring at the opposite wall.
    Miriam sat next to her on the bed and put her arm around Susie’s damp shoulder. “You are ice-cold, Susie,” she said.
    Susie tightened her fist around her towel and kept staring at the same spot on the wall.
    Miriam put her hand up to Susie’s forehead. No fever, but she did look a little green around the gills. “Are you feeling chilled?”
    Susie’s answer came out like a groan. “I wanted to feel clean,” she said. Tears flowed anew down her face.
    “Cum,” Miriam said, taking her hand. “Dry off your hair and get into your nightgown. I am sending you right to bed.”
    Miriam’s decisive tone shook Susie out of her foggy mood. She stood and wrapped the towel around her hair. Miriam went to the bureau and pulled out Susie’s flannel nightgown she wore during the cold winter months. Susie mechanically raised her arms, and Miriam helped her pull the nightgown over her head. While Susie stood motionless, Miriam took the towel from her head and pressed strands of Susie’s hair between folds of the towel until it was sufficiently dry.
    She directed Susie to sit on the bed and began to comb through her sister’s long golden tresses. Susie sat speechless with her spine rigid, her shoulders pulled back. She made no acknowledgment of Miriam’s presence except a light hand on Miriam’s knee.
    “Do you remember when Callie got gum in his hair and we had to shave most of his hair off?”
    Susie nodded.
    “Mamm almost cried when all those beautiful blond curls fell to the floor. Your hair is like his—the color of sunshine.” Miriam deftly fashioned Susie’s hair into a braid. “Now,” she said, “lie back and try to rest. I will make you some chicken soup.”
    Susie squeezed Miriam’s hand before she could pull away. “Miriam.” An idea