The grandmother found pieces of fleece and covered the big holes. The patches had worn off on the front, and it was becoming harder and harder to find places to sew more patches. In some places the poor little quilt consisted only of the backing, and the seams where quilting had been done.
The grandmother thought, thank goodness for little girls who love little quilts. It makes what I do have meaning. It's why I sew, for love.
And they all lived happily ever after, since the patches are holding for now.