Right now I’m cuddled up, nursing my babe, while my son snuggles on my side, watching Super Why and the snow falls out the window. Tucked under a blanket that my great grandma made, I am reminded of something I wrote a while ago and decide to share…
The Blanket
I am thin and tattered.
Frayed and slightly unraveled.
I am old with stories etched in every seam.
Yet I am soft.
I am warm.
There are stories left for me to see.
I encircle those I love in comfort.
I wrap those I care for in strength.
I am a blanket,
Yet I am not only a blanket.
I am something more.
I am a symbol.
I am the water that surrounds at birth.
I am the arms of the mother.
I am the sun beaming all around.
I am the embrace of the lover.
I am the earth that welcomes us all to rest.
I am a blanket,
And I am yours.
Rejoicing in the journey,
Bethany
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Beth Stedman. wife. mommy. daughter. friend. homemaker. sinner. believer. writer. cook. dreamer. artist. yogi. photographer. 
Hi Beth,
That Blanket has been around! It was first a doll blanket for me and my sisters dolls when we were little girls and then you and your sister used it for your dolls and now your “little doll” will get to use it too. Incredible that my Grandma Sugar I’m sure never even imagined it holding up that long. Each of those squares was a scrap of material from something else my grandma had made – a sun dress, shorts, pajama’s, a blouse. We always enjoyed commenting about who’s clothes were represented on the quilt. Thanks for the poem! I love it! Mom