Free The Giving Quilt by Jennifer Chiaverini

a fee for food and lodging, we donate the profits, and everyone keeps whatever quilts they make.”
    â€œLucky you, to have two quilt retreats in the same year,” said Mona.
    â€œWell, actually—” A nervous, illogical impulse compelled Pauline to glance at her watch. “My guild’s retreat is going on right now.”
    â€œThen why are you here instead of there?” asked Linnea.
    Why indeed. “It seemed . . . time for a change.”
    When the sisters regarded her with unmistakable curiosity, Pauline glanced away and changed the subject to the first thing her gaze lit upon—the young, blond college student on crutches, struggling to make her way from the buffet to a table with her breakfast in hand. “Oh, look at that poor girl. Someone should carry her plate for her.”
    She pushed back her chair, eager to be that person and thereby avoid more uncomfortable questions, but before she could stand, another camper—Jocelyn, the African-American middle school teacher from Michigan—appeared at the struggling girl’s side. They exchanged a few words, and with a grateful smile and a nod, Michaela handed Jocelyn her plate and they made their way to a nearby table. Fortunately for Pauline, the distraction sufficed; Linnea and Mona had abandoned the subject of Pauline’s strange absence from her guild’s retreat in favor of possible color combinations for their Giving Quilts. Pauline left them to it, explaining that she had to retrieve her quilt supplies from her room before the start of class.
    â€œSave me a seat?” she asked as she rose and cleared away her dishes. She waited for the sisters to nod before hurrying off.
    The classroom turned out to be a small section of the ballroom set apart by moveable partitions, and Pauline arrived just in time to claim an empty seat beside Linnea. Gretchen Hartley, a thin, gray-haired, seventysomething Elm Creek Quilter clad in a dark brown corduroy skirt and a beige twinset, stood at the front of the room smiling a welcome to each student as she entered. Behind her hung that year’s Giving Quilt—a charming confection of small red and larger purple squares set on point upon a light cream background framed by a double border, one narrow, one wide. The arrangement of blocks was simple and pleasing, reminding Pauline of bubbles rising from the bottom of an aquarium or colorful balloons floating up into a clear summer sky. Studying the quilt, she easily deduced which quick-piecing techniques Gretchen would likely employ so that the students would be able to assemble their tops within a matter of days. Pauline smiled as she arranged her supplies neatly on the table beside her sewing machine, confident that she would be able to achieve her quilt tally for the week.
    At precisely one minute after nine o’clock—enough time to grant stragglers a grace period while still remaining within the realm of the punctual—Gretchen raised her hands for their attention. “Good morning,” she said. “For those of you I didn’t have the opportunity to meet at registration, I’m Gretchen Hartley, and it’s no exaggeration to say that I’m thoroughly delighted to be leading the Giving Quilt class this year.”
    Pauline didn’t doubt it. Gretchen fairly glowed with warmth and eagerness as she gestured to the quilt hanging upon the wall behind her. “This quilt may look complicated, especially if you’re a beginner.” Gretchen peered questioningly around the room over the tops of her glasses, and a handful of students, including Mona, raised their hands. “Well, never fear. Appearances can be deceiving, and in this case, they definitely are. These Resolution Square blocks are composed of simple squares and rectangles, joined with easy straight seams. It’s the on-point arrangement of the blocks that lends the quilt its more complex appearance.”
    The campers