..The threads, each individual spun from a different mix of fibers, spent
their days and nights being twisted and thumped into position by the loom
operated by Geo, the Master Weaver.
Each knew that even after their place in the great design was finally
settled and the tapestry finished, they would live out their lives being
stepped on, sat on and sometimes suffering the indignity of having various
things spilled on them. Lucky ones were hung on walls or placed in museums.
Some threads began of the plainest cotton, but were dipped in brilliant hues
or bleached white as snow. Then there were the fine ones - blends of silks
or those spun from silver or gold.
Master Geo was well along in his day's work one fine summer afternoon when
he heard a tiny sigh. He stopped his loom and listened. The sound came
again. A sad little sigh.
Now Master Geo had some extraordinary qualities and one of these was his
ability to follow his creations throughout their lives. He knew that the
sigh he heard did not come from the room he was in, but from a place where
one of his tapestries lived.
To many, something so tiny as a sigh would pass them by or be dismissed. But
Master Geo was not such a being. He could not go on with his work because
that unhappy little sound nagged at him.
Now he listened very hard and tried to pick out which of his creations had
created that sound. He heard the thread of a conversation, "This is
miserable, awful! Years pass and the darkness still surrounds us," The
little voice cried out. "We are forgotten."
Master Geo searched his memory for this little voice. It sounded very green,
strong and cottony. The old weaver snapped his fingers as he remembered the
name from among the millions and millions he had woven, "Weft!"
The weaver closed his eyes and pictured the beautiful tapestry of which Weft
was a part. If memory served it was not a very large one, but a small gift
given to the parents of a newborn, Alexa had been her name.
Master Geo knew Alexa was destined for great things and the gift had been
made especially for her as a reminder of how beautifully dreams and reality
could be woven together to bring joy.
In this design were dozens of tiny sparrows and a blue heaven above. There
was also a fine, large tree with golden apples hanging ripe on the twisted
branches. A unicorn sat beneath a tree with a tiny child, standing beside it
and stroking its brow.
Master Geo smiled warmly at the memory. Now, he thought about Weft. Where
had that little thread fit into the pattern? Aaah yes, Weft was part of the
long grass beneath the child's feet, soft and curling, as if a slight breeze
would cause it to ruffle and tickle the little ankles and toes. A very
lovely place to be, he thought. And Weft would have a very important memory
to create for the child.
Whatever could be wrong? Master Geo chose to investigate. He closed his eyes
and saw the tapestry. Before long, he was there in the child's room. He came
in as a sunbeam and warmed the floor.
He scanned the room for signs of the tapestry, but could find none. Then he
heard the child sobbing in a corner and stretched across the room to the
dark and shadowy corner where she sat. He warmed her hair. It was Alexa, now
at seven years old. She sat with her head on her knees and cried and cried.
Now Old Master Geo knew better than to appear as himself to a child as old
as seven. He might frighten the wits out of her. Instead he tried an old
trick. He turned into a Savannah sparrow, all covered in brown and white
with little yellow eyebrows. He perched on the windowsill and began to sing
a dreamy song.
Alexa stopped crying and turned to the sweet music coming from her window.
While a child of seven might be frightened of old weavers popping into their
rooms, they loved to sit and chat to little animals. The weaver knew Alexa
favored little birds.
"Why do you cry?" the little bird sang.
Alexa shrugged her shoulders. "I have forgotten my favorite story and Mamma
and Papa don't know it," she said.
"What do you remember?" the bird sang.
Alexa closed her eyes and tried to remember. "I remember colors and gold and
silver and a beautiful tree," she said. "But that is all. Since I forgot my
favorite story I have been so sad."
The sparrow cocked his head and looked carefully around the room again. The
tapestry was indeed missing.
The little sigh of Weft came again, this time loud and clear. It came from
another room. Quick as a flash the little sparrow flew in the open window
and across the room. Alexa squealed. "Mamma! Mamma! There's a wild bird
loose in the house," she cried. At the age of seven little girls can be very
unpredictable.
Master Geo had to work fast since Alexa's mother and father could be heard
heading up the flight of stairs. The little bird sang to Weft, "Little Weft
it is Master Geo come to help you. Make a sound so that I might find you."
Weft, heard his master call and began to shout as loud as he could, "Here,
here in the dark! In a box! Help! Help!"
The little bird flitted from door top to dresser, from lampshade to tabletop
in his frantic search. By now Alexa's parents had arrived and they began to
chase after the little bird that had invaded their home.
"Don't hurt it," called Alexa's Mother to her Papa.
Alexa's papa called back, "I will get a broom from the closet and shoo it
back out the window."
The moment the closet door was opened the sparrow flitted inside and perched
on the cardboard box and began to sing. Everyone stopped. The dreamy sound
took all of the panic out of the air and calmed them all.
"How very strange," said Alexa's mother.
The singing stopped and the bird nipped a bit of one box flap in its beak
and flipped it open. Then it poked its head into the box and tugged out a
corner of the tapestry. When enough of the tapestry was out of the box the
bird flew to Alexa and perched on her shoulder.
Instead of squealing this time, she stood very still. The bird began to sing
softly in her ear, "Your lost story is here in every thread, woven just for
you."
Then he flew to her mother's shoulder and sang, "Never pack your dreams
away. Keep what is old to build the new. Like a tiny thread in a tapestry
every move matters in the mind of a child and in the big picture."
Master Geo turned and flew back through the house, out Alexa's window and
back to his work and the three humans seemed to wake from a dream.
Alexa went to the closet and pulled the tapestry from the box. She laid it
out on the floor and gasped. "It's my story! My favorite story," she cried.
"The one Grandma told me. It's about the little girl who made friends with a
unicorn by feeding it golden apples. See all the little birds? Grandma said
the little girl could charm the birds from the trees."
Alexa's mother and father knelt down and hugged her and the tapestry.
"We put this away when Granny died because it reminded everyone of her and
we thought it would make you sad to see it," her father said. "Granny gave
you this when you were born. If you look at the grass by the little girl's
feet you can see where the thread was once pulled out and Granny fixed it
with what she called her "loving stitches." That's what she called a rip or
tear that someone you love fixes for you."
Suddenly Alexa remembered her grandmother very clearly and it made her feel
warm and wonderful. "She said there is a story in every thread," Alexa
remembered.
She hugged the tapestry and smiled. "Can we put it back on my wall," she
asked. Her parents both nodded and soon the tapestry was back in its place
on the wall over Alexa's bed.
Back in his workroom Master Geo smiled as he recounted the day's happenings
to the piles of thread scattered about him while he wove a new tale into his
latest tapestry.
"See how important a part little green cotton Weft played in a larger
design," Master Geo said softly. "So shall you each have your own story
before the work is done."
So it was that the master weaver went back to his work and each thread
waited eagerly to learn what kind of tell tale it would be.
Lisa Suhay
From "Tell Me Another Story"
(Savannah Sparrows (Hand Colored Etching) ©1997 Richard Stauffacher)
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