Weaving Web for Eternity
By Emma Hildreth Adams
The writer, looking back to-day a long distance into the deeply interesting and many-hued past, can see, seated at an old-fashioned loom, in an upper room of a white house in western New York, an aged, bright-faced, and extremely active woman, wearing a pretty coverlet of white and blue. Very skilfully, first from one slender hand, then from the other, she shot the seemingly alive shuttle between the upper and lower threads forming the warp of the purposeful fabric. Seldom, if ever, in a long day’s work, did she make mistake. As I, a child, watched the graceful, rhythmic motions of hands, body, and shuttle, each act producing exact result, and noted her assured, confident manner, she seemed to be acting a most serious part in some scene whose outcome might affect decisively her entire life. The total movements of the person and the machinery were full of meaning, eloquent of purpose and power, and appeared to say: “It must be done well. Failure must stand in the distance.” All down these long, eventful years that living, breathing picture has been teaching its momentous lessons. Not only was that intelligent woman weaving an article of usefulness that day. She was doing also a day’s work upon the fine web of her truly noble character. She was constructing fabric for the ages. In course of time the coverlet would wear out, vanish from sight, be no more. But the immaterial texture she was fashioning would live while the divine Father lives, for she was one of His children; was living by faith; doing things as if seeing Him who is invisible. What vast gain there would be to the world, full of human weavers, could each one but fully realize that every passage of a speeding shuttle, trailing its thread of white or of color, fitly symbolizes the hurrying, urgent acts of their changeful lives! Reflecting a moment, one may understand that it is not an easy task to remove from a web, intended for any purpose whatever, threads which will weaken the product, mar its beauty, or shorten its service. Even tho the unsuitable threads could be readily withdrawn, and be replaced by others better adapted, still would the result lack perfection. There would be flaw, quickly discernible to a skilful cloth architect. Much more, then, when weaving the intricate web of human character, a web designed for a high and definite purpose, a web whose warp has been laid by divine hands, made of fiber capable of endurance eternal, would it be difficult to extract threads of the woof, which blur the design, mar its beauty, lessen its value, thwart the intent of the high-destined fabric. If the thread the shuttle carries be weak here and there, if it be discolored, stained deeply now and then by abject thoughts; if it be broken suddenly by some cruel, red deed, or if the poison of depraved intent drop upon it, and eat out its fine quality, costly will be the repairing and short its time of service. The shuttle has been thrown with loss. But if the smoothly coiled thread be evenly spun, of lasting fiber, of true tint, then will each thrust of the laden shuttle contribute strength, beauty, profit, endurance, to the entire, valuable product. The texture will then stand the test of strain and wear to the limit of requirement. All the daily acts which form the filling, the weft, of the fabric will be genuine. They will be threads spun by an alert, faithful conscience, threads selected by a cautious judgment, and for their lasting quality, since they must stand, finally, searching investigation, test complete. To all such conscientious weavers, will be thrown open wide, one day, the “strait gate which leadeth unto life.” What recompense for every struggle to walk uprightly; for every effort to be prompt, obedient, faithful! Sadly enough, Christ said of that gate, “Few there be that find it.” The vast majority of men and women living to-day are weaving character with frightful thoughtlessness, thrusting their shuttles forth and back with astounding rapidity, thinking little about quality of web, but hastening wildly for quantity, keeping their looms busy yielding fabric for this life only, failing to weave therein the precious qualities of faith, earnestness, self-sacrifice, obedience to the Father’s will.