Standing on tiptoe Amber removed the last poster from the bedroom wall and rolled it into a neat tube. She snapped a rubber band around it and placed it on top of her luggage by the bedroom door. The dresser top was bare and her cosmetics from the vanity were in a toiletry bag. Even the closet seemed empty – most of her clothes were in the suitcases. “Are you packed?” Her grandmother’s voice called from the hallway moments before the small woman entered the room.
“I think so.” Amber rubbed her lips together as she struggled to remember if she had forgotten anything. “I hope so.”
Gram sat down on the white eyelet comforter and smiled. Her work-worn hand patted the bed as an invitation for Amber.
“Don’t be all fretful, honey.” Her voice, husky with age, was comforting. “You’ll do fine at the university.”
Tears that threatened all morning streamed down Amber’s face and she hugged her grandmother, inhaling the lavender sachet she wore. The aroma was familiar and soothing.
“I’ll miss you.”
One hand stroked the hair back from her face as her grandmother released her. The older woman’s eyes sought hers.
“And I’ll miss you, too, but this is what you’ve wanted all through high school, a chance to go away to college. You’ll be back for Christmas before you know it.”
Amber sniffed and wiped her cheeks with both hands. She couldn’t find the words to express what she felt to leave the home she shared with her widowed grandmother. After her parents had died in separate accidents, six months apart, she and her younger brother came to live at the farm. Ten years had passed and at eighteen, she was leaving for college. She had studied for the SAT, earned a scholarship, pored over college brochures, and enrolled at the State University. Now that the time to leave had come, however, she didn’t want to go. She felt like crawling into bed, cuddling the Raggedy Ann doll that still lay between the pillows, and sucking her thumb.
“I’m not sure I want to go now.” As she released the pent-up words, she rose and stalked across the room to the window. “Maybe I can do correspondence courses or something.”
Gram stood up, arms crossed and face stern. Amber had always called it her “no-nonsense” pose.
“You’re going.”
Amber faced her grandmother with tears running down her face.
“I need to be here, to help you.”
“Pshaw!” Laughter bubbled from her grandmother’s throat. “Jess is here.”
“He’s just a kid.”
“He’s thirteen; plenty old enough to help.” Gram put her head out into the hall and called him. “Jess! Come carry your sister’s bags to the car.”
Chiggers nibbled at her feet in sandals as Amber closed the trunk. The tears were gone; she felt calm enough now to leave. Some of Gram’s strength seemed to have seeped into her heart. Wind whispered through the tall oaks in the farmyard and she listened to the soft sounds of the cattle in the field. Feeling stronger than she had ever felt in her life, she embraced Gram and then her brother. She turned to climb into the car but hesitated when she saw a large white box on the front seat.
“What in the world?”
“Go on.” Gram said, smiling. “Don’t open it until you get to your dormitory. It’s a little surprise.”
Curiosity tingled down her back. “What is it?”
“I’m not telling. You’ll see. Something from home and home is where the heart is.” Gram pushed the car door shut. “You’d best get on the road or you’ll not get there today. Write me when you can and call me on Saturday.”
“I will.” Buckled into her seat belt, she turned the key and drove away, waving. “Good-bye!”
Beige walls, a tile floor, a single bed, and a large closet greeted her when she reached the campus. Although no one was in the room, it was apparent that she had a roommate. On the opposite side of the room colors blazed – a bright comforter, vivid pillows, and lovely pictures. As Amber tacked up her posters, she felt drab. With her suitcases unpacked and her possessions stowed away, she sat down on the bed and opened the white box.
Something from home, Gram had said. Amber had speculated during the long drive what the box might contain. Apple butter that Gram put up each fall or the family Bible from the parlor? Treasured photographs from the hallway or one of Gram’s special cakes? Layers of tissue paper swathed the contents and when she removed them, she gasped.
Amber unfolded the quilt from the box as tears clouded her vision. Her fingers traced the intricate patchwork and she made small noises as she recognized each piece of material. Calico from Gram’s favorite blouse was present; so was chambray from one of Jess’ work shirts. A square of soft flannel with ABC’s came from Amber’s well-worn baby blanket and the red plaid came from the first dress Gram made for her.
The bit of paisley came from one of her mother’s blouses and the striped blue and yellow from her daddy’s favorite tie. Pink satin trimmings from the prom dress Gram had fashioned had been worked into the design and there were bits of a checkered tablecloth Amber had loved as a child. Pieces of the blue and white gingham dress she had called her “Dorothy” dress after the heroine from The Wizard of Oz had been used. So had faded camouflage from an old hunting shirt.
Amber pressed her face against the soft quilt and smiled through the tears. With so many patchwork pieces from the past she would feel at home. She smoothed the quilt over the small bed and knew that she would sleep well beneath the quilts’ blessing.
“There’s no place like home.” She whispered as she crawled beneath it late that night. “And like Gram says, home is where the heart is.”


Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy lives and works near Neosho, Missouri in the Ozarks. Her non-fiction and fiction have been widely published.


Copyright © 2006. Do not reproduce without permission.

Home Contents