The fabric of my happy life was torn
And began to ravel apart one fateful day
When an important thread woven through
Came loose and was taken away.
The loom was threaded for the weaving to begin.
It took threads strong and true.
The first was stretched tight to the loom.
The other fastened to the shuttle held in the weaver's hand.
Then the weaving began forming a fabric of my life.
The strong thread attached to the loom was the man
And the other attached to the shuttle the wife.
God was the weaver who married the two
weaving the fabric of a wonderful family.
As time passed the weaver added sparkle to the fabric
With children added by His grace
And enhancement of the cloth showed their face
As one after the other they took their place.
Many years the fabric served the family well
As it was cleaned of any imperfection
And pressed back into shape as before
Showing no evidence of wear.
We snuggled warm and secure in the fabric
Wrapped lovingly around our shoulders
Drawing each with bonds of love to our heart
Forming the whole with each dear part.
Then one fateful day the fabric was torn
As one sturdy thread was ripped away
Leaving a hole needing careful repair.
The weaver drew the threads with love stitches
Close enough it seemed the hole was never there.
The fabric of the family never wore thin
Though distance made it stretch
Giving room for added buttons helping it overlap
With added strength never to snap.
The weaver took one sparkling jewel back to Him
And the fabric was never the same again
For its strength began to wane
And its beauty began to dim.
One day the fabric sensed a renewal of pride
In the gentle kindness of the weaver's hand
Knowing the hole had been mended
And the fabric was whole again.
Jane Ward Smith
Used With Permission
All Rights Reserved By Author