Joshua the Weaver: Chapter Four
"So, Joash, this is your newest apprentice. How did you keep him secret all these years? I have only seen him in your shop these past few months. Surely, you don't mean to take credit today for another's work. He is your pupil isn't he?" Isaac had heard stories, but Joash had not presented an apprentice for his final exam for many years. In fact the name of Joash had not been heard among the finest weavers of Jerusalem for a good many years.
"But of course, Isaac, he is the pupil of my old age. I know so much it takes me half the time it takes you to train up a new master weaver." He knew the credit was not to his skill, but Joash could not resist the chance to poke the goad at Isaac. Not hard enough to hurt, just enough to remind him that Joash the master weaver was still a man to be treated with respect.
"That's not what I hear in the streets, but then who would believe the gossip of the rabble." Who would believe that a man's sight could be given to him as a full grown man instead of a new born babe? Who would believe that a potter's son could become a weaver, a journeyman weaver in fortnight of months? "Tell me is it true what they say, that he was born blind? That some teacher from Galilee gave him his sight?"
"Isaac, I really don't know what to believe. I only know what I have seen. I have known this boy's family all my life. I watched his father grow up while I watched the trees in my garden grow strong and tall. I watched his mother grow from a young girl into a beautiful woman and then into an old woman from guilt over he son's condition. I watched this boy stumble as a baby, tripping over rocks other children would have walked around. I watched as he grew confident and able to run with the other children, dodging rocks at the last minute as if he saw them with his mind. He will tell you how his sight was granted that the power of God might be displayed; I only know that something happened to him."
"But Joash, to take in the son of a potter as an apprentice. You know this has never been done. He will bring disgrace on our brotherhood. He will bring the honorable name of the weavers into the clay with the potters. My hands have never had to become caked in mud. My work is clean; my hands are soft from the fine oils in the wools. They are not rough like the hands of Jonathan the potter's. How can you hope that the others will accept this wonder boy of yours?"
"Again, I only know what I have seen. This boy's life has been touched by something or someone. From his first piece at the apprentice loom, he has never given me anything except first quality work. He has made a mistake or two, but nothing like the kinds of mistakes we made as young boys. It may just be his age. He started late, you know, and maybe that is all there is to it. I don't know of anyone who has started as late as he."
"All right, all right, so he can do the job well. So he hardly ever makes mistakes. I still say the the son of a potter should be a potter and the son of a weaver should be a weaver."
"Isaac, did I ever tell you about my grandfather?"
"I hardly know what your ancestors have to do with this, but I bet I am going to hear."
"When my family came to Jerusalem, I was a young boy, barely weaned. My father and his father set up a small shop at the far edge of town. They didn't even dare to come to the street of the weavers. For ten long years, we worked to earn the right to live on this street. No one knew us, no one knew my grandfather's teacher. He had to prove beyond all doubt that he truly was a weaver."
"Joash, I know your grandfather was a master weaver. He trained some of Jerusalem's finest. He had the patience to cultivate the spark of inspiration into full blown genius. Some even said that if it had not been for his foot, he would have been the best weaver in all Jerusalem."
"That foot is what made him into a weaver."
"Made him into a weaver? "
"Yes, made him into a weaver. My grandfather was a young man with my grandmother and my father to watch over. One day he was in the forest felling some trees to cut into boards."
"But, Joash, that is the work of "
"A carpenter. Exactly, my grandfather, the master weaver had apprenticed to become a carpenter. In his small village, he was the best. But that day the wind came up just as he was about to put the ax to a large tree for the final blow. And the "
" ...wind caught the tree and dropped it on your grandfather's foot crushing it. Joash, I am so sorry. I had no idea."
"Thank you, Isaac. No one had any idea. We never spoke of those days. I was not there and my father hid the story from me. He did not want me to know that I did not come from a long line of weavers. He did not want me to know that Grandfather had to sell the little he had to pay someone to train him again. A carpenter with a bad foot cannot go to cut the trees. He cannot carry heavy board about the shops. A crushed foot will not easily climb a ladder. But, a man with a strong desire to care for his family and the keen eye of an artist can sit at a loom and work as a master weaver."
"I suppose you want me to encourage the others to give Joshua a fair hearing."
"If a crippled carpenter can break through the wall to be just short of the best weaver in Jerusalem, don't you think that Joshua should have at least a chance to prove the strength of his gift. I have no idea if he will pass the test. I have had a few apprentices fail the test even after years of learning the trade. If he fails, it should be his work that brings him down, not his heritage."
Isaac pleaded Joshua's case. A few well placed comments about Joash's grandfather and the legacy of the great master weaver's skill being reborn in the miracle man were enough to turn the tide of bickering about a potter's son.
Joshua took his place at the loom. He sat at this type of loom for the first time just after cleaning put his booth from the festival. After six weeks on the master loom, Joshua felt ready. "Joash, I think I am ready for the test. I am the right age to go before the master weavers' council. I met Mathious last week. He is two years younger than me and he passed the test. I hear that he plans to move the villages and set up shop. In just a year or two he should be able to support a wife and family. He told me about his betrothed. She must be beautiful to hear him. They have waited for so many years. Even though they were promised at birth, her father will not let him marry her until he has a shop of his own."
Joash listened to his prize pupil until Joshua stopped rattling on. "So that is the reason you want to risk it all. Joshua, you will have only one chance before the council. If you fail, they will never give you another hearing. I talked with Isaac the other day. He says they don't even want to give you a first attempt at passing the test. You are not one of them. Now you want to gamble your only chance because of a girl. Wait another year Joshua, you will be better known, you will have created much more work by then. They will know that you are not just an accident, a lightening flash. If you wait a year, I know you will pass. Then you can have your master weaver's cloak and your wedding robes. "
"But Joash, I ..."
"But nothing, if you want my blessing, you will wait."
Joshua's next rebuttal froze on his lips. Your blessing! Your blessing? Memories flashed, thoughts jumbled, voices rang in his ears. Joshua crumbled to his knees, his face seeking refuge in his hands, his sorrow splashed on the floor."
"Joshua, Joshua, what is it?" Joash sat on the nearby stool and touched the man crumpled in the dusty floor of the shop. A gentle arm surrounded the shoulders to contain the shaking. Eternities later, Joshua's body quit shuddering and the cascades of grief from his eyes finally slowed to rivulets, then a trickle, then stopped. Both arms were now around the man though it was the little boy who felt the comfort.
Slowly the story came out.
"When I was a little boy, only eight days old, my parents took me before the priest. They presented me to the Lord our God. I received the mark of the covenant on my body and a blessing from the priest. No one knew yet that I was blind. No one know that I would never be more than a beggar in the streets. The priest pronounced a blessing our me, 'May you grow into a mighty man of God in Israel. May you follow in the way of your father and bring honor on his head in his old age. My your house be full of the laughter of your many children and the wise words of your beautiful wife.' "
"Joshua, that is a wonderful blessing. Why does that make you cry? I thought you would never stop."
"Don't you see, Joash. Until today, you are the first one since that priest to even offer to give me your blessing. Once he found out I was blind, my father knew I would never be able to fulfill the blessing given to me by the priest. He must not have wanted to add to my hurt by pouring more blessings on me only to have them turn into curses. I only know of the priest's blessing because my mother used to pray it over me when she thought I was asleep. She would stroke my hair and pray softly. I kept quiet so she would not leave. Some nights she would pray my blessing and then she would ask God what she had done to bring about the curse that turned my blessing into a her dreams' tomb. Her words fell from her broken heart. 'Oh, Lord my God, have mercy on me. Reveal to me O Lord my healer the sins I have committed to bring this curse on my only son. Show me my heart, O Lord, so that I make atonement for my sins. Tell me, so I can bring the proper sacrifice to the temple and you can restore sight to my son.' "
"You mean, she blamed herself all these years." Now Joash knew why the young Esther had aged so quickly. When she and Jonathan had celebrated their wedding twenty years earlier, Joash had been almost jealous of Jonathan. To have such a beautiful wife who glowed with the love they shared. But after Joshua had been born, the glow of Esther's beauty dimmed ever so slightly with each missed promise. By the time Joshua reached his fifth birthday, Esther appeared to have washed away a decade's worth of energy. A soft border of white edged her once luxurious brown hair. By the time Joshua would have been apprenticed, Esther looked more like his grandmother than his mother. "Joshua, we must take our time. You have so much to gain for everyone. If you fail, think what it will mean to your mother and your father. They carried the blame for your blindness for 18 years. Do you want them to carry the shame of your failure too? I know Sarai is beautiful. I know you love her, but you must wait at least until after the next Passover."
"I'm too tried to fight about it now. I think I need to go home." Joshua dragged himself home and tossed himself into the dust beside the bench in front of his father's shop. "I have to prove to Sari that I can be the provider she needs. I must have Joash's blessing or I will never be part of the weaver's guild. I know I ..."
"Joshua, you are home early." His father's voice came from inside the shop. "Why don't you come in and help we clean up, then we can have dinner early. Maybe we can use the extra minutes to walk down by the market place."
"Father, I " Joshua was about to say that we was too tired to help and too tired to walk by the market because he had been through such a rough afternoon. " will be right in." His father had never asked him to do such a normal "manly" thing as walk down by the marketplace.
"I hear that your work is coming along very well with Joash. Do you plan to take your test soon? You said something about it the other day."
"Joash thinks I should wait." Joshua helped his father wash down the tools. "He said I should wait since I have only been around for a while. He said some of the older men would be jealous of my work.
"Joash may have a point, Joshua. He knows those men well. What can another six or eight months matter?"
"But Father, that means another six or eight months before Sarai and I could get married."
"And should a beautiful girl like Sarai marry a master weaver or a maker of cleaning rags? The daughter of my once best friend deserves the best."
"But I know I could pass the test with my eyes closed."
"And if you passed the test and the rest of the master weavers blocked you out, how could you ever hope to become part of that group. I think you need to listen to Master Joash" With that, his father put away the last of the tools and urged his son off to wash. The walk to the market did not stir up the problem of the test again. They walked and greeted friends. His father introduced Joshua to an occasional face who had been only a voice before. By bed time, Joshua knew he had to follow the advice of Joash and put off the test he knew he could complete today.
© 1998 Laughing Wind Production Company. All rights reserved.
Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five
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