The Purple Bedspread
I found this story in Helene Hadsell’s old computer files. She wrote it on April 20th, 2003. The file was titled “The Lemonade Pitcher” and stated that the story was 783 words long. However, the story in the document was titled “The Purple Bedspread“. I do know Helene took a fiction writing class in her later years. The end result was her book A Man Called Friday. Perhaps this was one of the assignments she completed?
Special – One of a Kind!
What does a lemonade pitcher, fig preserves, and a purple bedspread have to do with each other? You will be surprised how they tie together.
The lemonade pitcher set, with its delicate hand painted wisteria, forest green with two-toned green leaves, holds a special place in my memory bank. It was a gift from my husband’s favorite aunt. She gave me the set when her health was failing, and she was no longer active in civic affairs. “I want you to have this, one of my prized possessions,” she said as she presented it to me the last time we met.
The set consisted of a pitcher, a square tray, and three glasses; all painted with such delicate brush strokes it must have taken considerable time and patience to complete the process of painting and firing the greenware in a kiln before actually using the set to serve lemonade. Aunt Blanche called it the minister’s pitcher, because it was only used for one occasion: to drink lemonade with the minister when he came to call.
When I asked her why there were only three glasses, thinking one may have been broken, she replied, “No need to paint another glass. I only used it when the minister, my husband, and I had lemonade together.” The minister was a friend and frequent visitor in their home.
My husband often talked about the times his older sister and he took the train from Denton to San Antonio to visit their Aunt Blanche during the summer months. He was only eight, and his sister was ten. Aunt Blanche made them take naps, read books, and eat her fig preserves on toast. Her backyard had four fig trees. She made preserves from every fig on the tree. Everyone she knew, including me after I became a member of the family, was gifted with her fig preserves.
It’s strange how looking at the pitcher today, where it is displayed on my bookshelf, brings back memories of this special lady-her fig preserves and the purple bedspread.
My husband and I met in 1943 during World War II. He was pilot training to fly glider planes in the flat terrain of South Dakota where I lived. We married before he left for India, where he was stationed. Upon his return from his tour of duty, his first priority was to finish his last semester at A&M for his degree. Aunt Blanche came to visit us that spring. It was our first meeting. I heard so much about her, it was like meeting an old friend. Today’s generation call it bonding.
So, I guess I should say we bonded immediately.
“Don’t you have a bedspread?” she questioned when she saw our bed only had a blanket over the sheets. “I haven’t found the perfect spread yet,” I told her.
“What is your idea of a perfect bedspread?” she asked, sincerely interested in what I had in mind.
As I began describing my idea that only a purple spread would complete my decorating scheme, she kept nodding her head, approving my plans. “I’m in no hurry because I know it will be one of a kind and it’s somewhere out there waiting to put the finishing touch on my room,” I added with confidence.
Two weeks after she left, I received the package. It was a purple bedspread. The note pinned to the bedspread said, “Special-One of a Kind.” The letter that followed explained how she found the purple bedspread. She was on her way shopping when she passed a roadside tent shop. She was drawn to an orange and yellow tie-dyed bedspread that was hanging on the line for display purposes. She stopped to ask if they had one in purple. “I learned that the owner of the shop tied-dyed everything from dresses, tablecloths, to spreads in any color you wanted,” she explained. “I ordered yours in shades of pale lavender with deeper shades of lilac.” I thought it tied in beautifully with my pale pink walls and the Iris flower painting. The furniture was off-white. It was a room worthy of being featured in the pages of HOME DECORATING magazine.
Interesting how our mind works; one thought connecting to another. The lemonade pitcher made me think of Aunt Blanche. Aunt Blanche made me remember her fig preserves and the purple bedspread. I believe when we give a gift from the heart, it comes with memories attached.
And, what became of the purple bedspread? It was eventually donated to Goodwill. Perhaps it served as memories for someone else. After all, it was Special – One of a Kind!
