It's been a hard couple of days. And that seems to be the way life goes, sometimes we're asked to do hard things. A sister in my ward is dying from breast cancer. Kris has been fighting the battle for a few years, with its good and bad times. I am not a close friend, but I love and admire her courage and her spirit. She was a Relief Society teacher when I was moved into the ward. A few weeks ago my friend and new RS President Pam Price asked me if I could help her make a simple quilt for Kris from the Relief Society. I said okay. We were planning to do it next week--after the Christmas rush. When Pam asked, I immediately thought of a quilt top I made several months. I thought about Kris as I sewed it, and wanted to make it for her but I let my fears of not really knowing Kris and worrying what she'd think of me stop me from doing what I felt was right. I was sad that I didn't make a better choice, but I let it go and hoped I'd do better in the future. Now I was being given an opportunity for a second chance to follow the prompting from this summer and I happily offered the quilt top to Pam.
I was blessed. Second chances don't come very often.
The quilting wasn't hard. The emotions were. I thought of my grandmother who died from breast cancer December 20th over 30 years ago. I can remember that Christmas so clearly. And I remembered giving a different tulip quilt to my mother less than a week before she died. That was almost 20 years ago, but the tears still fall on days like today. I quilted my hope that Kris receive comfort and peace. I quilt my love for my mother and grandmother and Diana Jergensen and Shelley Horman Fuller and so many other great and nobel women. I quilt my knowledge that life is going to change for Kris' family and it will never be the same but somehow they'll find a way to get used to it and be happy again. And mostly I quilted my testimony of Jesus Christ that He keeps His promises. Families are forever. And then I cried some more. The tears do stop and the joy of living returns. God be thanked for the matchless gift of His divine Son.
It was a hard thing. It was a joy.