"But, Joash, it is so small. How will I ever get my feet under the frame."
"My boy that is for you to figure out."
My boy that is for you to figure out. Joash's words issued the challenge. Well I can move the chair and sit on the floor, but then my feet won't reach the pedals. I could use a smaller chair, if I could find one. I guess for now I can sit on a rock. "How's this Joash, my faithful teacher."
"That will do for today, Joshua, but for the week or two you will need to master this simple loom, you will need to work out something better than that. Maybe your father has a sturdy pot you could use for a chair. Now, this is how you work the loom."
With few words and many motions of instruction, Joash left Joshua with his first task. The master weaver returned to the fine linen he was preparing for a centurion's wife. He disliked the Roman's taste in colors and design, but Roman silver was worth the minor displeasure to his senses. Joash smiled to himself as he watched his overgrown apprentice sit at the small apprentice loom. Joshua looked more like a mother huddled over a child than an apprentice over a loom. Joash had seen so many boys come into his shop during a lifetime of weaving. Some sat at the small loom for weeks, then left, unable to handle the hand and foot work. Joash had told himself many years before that a master weaver was born not trained. Something in the soul of a boy had to be prepared from birth to be able to guide the hands and feet to create what the mind's eye saw. He had turned out many good journeyman weavers. They could weave tents, peasant clothing, and other everyday materials with the best of the weavers in Israel. But years had passed since Joash had discovered and nurtured a master weaver. He stopped to change to a lighter shade of purple when he looked over to see the progress of his new apprentice.
He works so smoothly, but he is so old to start, but his hands already have the rhythm of the shuttle; his feet dance lightly on the pedals, not yet confident but correct. Maybe he will be one of the lucky ones who learns the loom in a few weeks. "You are doing well Joshua. Keep your mind on your work; don't try to hurry. You will have plenty of time."
"But Master Joash, I have lost so much time already. I long to be a weaver not an apprentice."
"In good time my boy. In good time. You may be a journeyman someday, or maybe just a good helper for me in my old age, but a weaver, a master weaver, it is so late for that. Late, I must get back to this linen." These shades of purple look terrible together. Why can't she let me use a light blue here. It would be so much prettier on her, but she won't listen to a word I say, and I am tired of arguing with her. By mid afternoon, Joshua finished his first project.
"Master Joash, what do I do with this when I am finished?" Joshua held up the piece of cloth, perfectly finished, for his teacher's critical eye.
"Well let me have a look." Joash quietly held the finished piece of cloth. "Very nice. It usually takes a beginner a little longer, a few days longer to get the feel of that loom and finish that piece." His eye could find no fault in the coarse material. His fingers, which found even the slightest interruption in the weaving of fine linen, could not detect the usual pauses and reweavings of an over eager apprentice. "Joshua, you have never sat at a loom before today?"
"No sir, never in my life."
"Let's put this little accident to the test." They moved from the small apprentice loom to the larger apprentice loom. Here are the pedals and the shuttlecocks, and this is where we load the thread...." Joash sat back and watched in quiet wonder as Joshua carefully, methodically explored each aspect of the loom. By night fall, Joshua crossed the threshold of a novice weaver.
"Joshua, you have done well for your first day. Why don't you go on home tonight, you have had a long day. I will be finishing soon. I'll see you first thing in the morning, and don't forget some lunch. I can't feed you and my family both. In the morning then! Good night."
This has never happened to me before. I don't know what to do. I dare not tell the boy. He would get head strong and not study, not do his work. I heard about what happened to him at the pool, but how could.... No, it must be that he has a good sense of timing from listening to the wheel of his father. He must just have a good sense of feel; after all, he has had only his ears and fingers for years. No one has ever worked with an apprentice this old. No one has ever had his eyes opened before. Maybe I'll talk with the rabbi tonight. Maybe I'll talk with Medan; he had an older apprentice once. Maybe I'll just keep my mouth shut and see how far this goes.
Joshua spent the hours from long before sun up until he could arrive at Joash's shop, pacing the floor, getting in his mother's way, and generally causing his parents to wish he were still asleep.
"Joshua, take your overflowing energy down to the well and bring me back two full buckets of fresh water. Now!"
"But Father, two buckets will be awfully heavy to carry. I might not be back in time to get to the shop in time for today's lessons. Will one be enough for now?"
"My son you waste time you could spend carrying water. Hurry before any more dust grows older under your feet."
"Jonathan, don't you think one bucket will be enough. He must be doing well. You saw the lovely piece he brought home yesterday. He shouldn't be late."
"And he won't be if he takes the two buckets and leaves this instant."
"Hurry, son, before you Father loses his temper."
Joshua ran all the way to Joash's shop, afraid he was late.
"God's greetings to you Joshua. You are later today than yesterday. I wondered if you had decided to set up your own shop already since you had done so well yesterday."
"Oh no, Master Joash. I had some errands for my Father. I told him I might be late but ..."
"No need to apologize, Joshua. A father must be obeyed. Now, grab a bucket for water, run down to the well, and get us some fresh water before we start the day's work.
Joshua took the bucket, without argument, and ran both ways. Exhausted and wet from the top half of the bucket, Joshua surprised Joash with his quick return.
"Now we can get to work. This, my dear boy, is the last loom you must master before you earn the right to sit at my master loom. You seem to have mastered the important elements of the apprentice looms, so we may as well go on." I have never brought a student to this loom until a year of study, but he seems to be able to handle anything I put in his way. If he fails here, I'll know that yesterday was just beginners luck. Anybody with good hands and good timing could have done what he did; I think. "Now, I want you to take a look at the pedals first. We use these to adjust the tightness of the weave. Like this. Then ..." I may as well tell him everything there is to know about this loom. I guess it is just his maturity, his eagerness to learn. Well maybe I'll just give him the first year.
When Joshua finally sat down, he had heard the lectures of three years time compressed into the space of a few hours. He had no idea Joash had given him any more information than was normally given to a progressing apprentice. After all he had never done this either. After he had explored the various parts, Joash gave his student a simple assignment, a piece of robe grade cloth with a border of three colored stripes at either end. The master weaver had much work to do that day so he returned to his loom to prepare the materials needed for the rabbi's new robe. Joash later would say that was the worst robe he had made in years. He could not keep his mind on his work. Every few rows Joash sat back and watched in quiet wonder as Joshua carefully, methodically, used each new aspect of the loom to do the required task. He accomplished the color changes with ease, even adding some design to the border. Joash had seen that border before; it was around the pool of Siloam. Months passed and Joshua had only one final task before he could be considered a master weaver. He must face the master weavers of the city and prepare for them a flawless tapestry in the space of one day to prove his ability with the loom and the tools of a true weaver, his eyes and his imagination.
© 1998 Laughing Wind Production Company. All rights reserved.
Chapter One
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Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five