It’s been over a year now since the Obenchain fire ripped through my son’s property in Eagle Point, Oregon. A year since the fire took down his shop, the chicken coop, the water pump, the power lines. A year since a couple of very kind strangers arrived with two livestock trailers, herded the goats into one, the llamas into the other, then wrangled thirteen chickens, clucking and squawking, into Deanna’s defunct Subaru and out of harm’s way. A year since Farmer Greg in Sam’s Valley welcomed their goats and llamas to graze on his land as long as they wished. A year since their friends posted a GoFundMe to which so many generous people –including a friend from the World Bank, the father of sons, who I hadn’t seen in over twenty years–contributed.
Now, a year later, the water pump and pipes have been replaced, power restored, and with thanks to help from his older brother Christian and a few of his friends, Adam has a brand-new shop.
Two weeks ago, Adam called. “Mom, I just got back from the Post Office. There was a package for us from your friend at the World Bank, Jacomina. She heard about the fire and the destruction of our property on your Facebook page. And the one thing she could think to do was make a quilt for us. Just as you made a quilt for her daughter Elena, who was born six weeks after I was. Do you remember that?”
Of course I remembered the little yellow baby quilt I stitched together for Elena almost forty years earlier, back when Jacomina and I were both new, first-time mothers of new-borns, home on maternity leave from the World Bank. I’d always loved quilts and tried making them myself – big ones that would cover a double bed – but with little success. While I was pregnant with Adam, though, I made a baby quilt for the first time. Bright, cheerful and much more manageable—it made me so happy to make one for my new baby, and Jacomina’s new baby too. A quilt that would fit perfectly into the baskets Jacomina had brought home from Haiti – one for Elena and one for Adam. I remember, too, how surprised Jacomina was by my quilt, when she said she couldn’t remember having seen one before.
“So, Mom,” Adam continued, “Jacomina explained in her note that in 2001, whent her husband died,her friends asked her to join their quilting group, and that this quilt she sent us is the same one she started back then. It took twenty years to make and she sent it to us. Can you believe it?”
I could. Although as working mothers, Jacomina and I didn’t have a lot of time to see each other as our kids grew up,, the friendship between first-time mothers of new-borns is a powerful thing. Jacomina would have been the first to understand what it meant to be the mother of a child — even a grownup child — in danger.
“ She says she named the quilt “Hope and Light” because that’s what quilting became for her. It gave her positive energy in dark times. When I wrote back to thank her, I said that didn’t remember having a security blanket when I was little, but I was very glad to have one now.”
I couldn’t have asked for a more generous gift for my kids. A quilt to keep them warm, and give them hope and light in dark times.”
Lovely lovely story! Thank you for sharing! xx
Thanks so much for reading, Jill!
Dear Jerri.
Thanks for sharing and writing the story ! These are the stories of our time and they bring hope. Most of us cannot imagine this kind of experience; a devastating fire, losing one’s home and belongings. But they are stories of hope and human kindness.
Stay well and safe everyone!
I’m so glad you feel this way, Lucy. These Wild Fire stories weren’t easy to write (especially the first two) but I felt I had to write them. Not only is what happened to my kids deeply significant for me, but the experience made the catastrophic implications of climate change deeply personal as well. Thanks so much for reading and commenting, Lucy!
Such a beautiful story and the ending with the quilt brought me to tears of joy and hope.
Thank you for saying so, Robin! With all that happened last year, that quilt meant the world to us.
Such a blessing to read a story filled with optimism, hope for the future, and friendship.
Thank so much, Mark! Truly – optimism, hope for the future, and friendship. That’s exactly it. It’s not always obvious, of course, but so very necessary. Big hugs, and thanks for reading!
Piece by piece, we make our security blankets to heal the world….
Beautifully put, Paige. Thank you!
Contente d’apprendre que Adam et Deanna sont sortis de ce drame qui les a frappé si fort.
J’aime beaucoup l’idée de l’esprit de solidarité qui a prévalu! Le geste de Christian ne me surprend guère: ça lui ressemble tant de venir au secours ded autres, à plus forte raison de son petit frère et de sa belle sœur… J’aime aussi à penser que ce n’est pas par hasard que des inconnus ont apporté leur aide! La main de Dieu qui a entendu les prières d’une mère ???
Quant à l’anecdote de la couette envoyée par Jacomina…plus de 40 ans après… La symbolique de l’amitié, de la fidélité ..
Merci pour le partage, Chère Jerri!
Marguerite, so nice to see you here. We should ask Jerri to put us in touch.
Jacomina, I will I will. Believe it or not, Marguerite will be here with us in Portugal the middle of next month. Perhaps we can have a Facetime visit. But apart from that, I’ll send you MM’s email address. I love that my blog may be what brings people together! (And I hope I did justice to the quilt story!) Hugs, Jerri
Rien n’est plus important que l’amitié,, comme nous le savons si bien, toi et moi! Et des amis comme Jacomina De Regt et Mark Blackden . . . avec qui je n’avais pas parlé depuis des années. Vraiment … ça m’a preque fait pleurer.
J’étais très heureuse d’écrire cet épilogue. J’aime tellement les “fins heureux”. Bisous ma belle !