WHOLE CLOTH
A church is a good place for meditation, even a former
church. In fact, I don’t know that you
can actually take the ‘church’ out of a building. I was at the decommissioning of Knox United,
I know that the formalities of ‘unchurching’ were done, but between the
architecture and my memories it will always be a place of sunny meditation,
favourite hymns, and the warmth of sharing that space with others in an aura of
fellowship.
And so, I found myself meditating on Saturday afternoon in
the sunshine of those south-facing windows, under that vaulted roof, and
singing songs that I love. We were there
to honour and bid farewell to a well-loved lady, and the diverse crowd
assembled showed just how far-ranging Dosy’s inspiration had been over her 90
years. In her homily Michelle spoke of
how we are to use our talents throughout our lives and then went on to list the
many ways everyone present had benefited from Dosy’s life. I know I did; she was my co-worker, then my
boss, but most of all she was my friend.
My meditation didn’t stop with Dosy though, it opened the
door to thinking about the many others in our little hometown who have also
shared their time and talents to expand and enhance the community we enjoy. There are many.
I’m a hometown girl.
I’ve lived all but six years of my life here. In a world where most young people leave to
seek their fortunes elsewhere my choice was to stay. I don’t know if it’s just the way my brain
works, or because I am here to witness it, but sometimes, when I’m talking to
classmates or other friends who did move away, I feel like a local historian. Not the specific, detailed historian who
would remember dates, but the type who wants credit to go to the unsung heroes
who have earned it.
The terms ‘warp’ and ‘woof’ come to mind. For those unfamiliar, these words pertain to
weaving cloth. In order to form a piece
of cloth you have to set up a loom with threads going up and down (warp) so that
the horizontal threads (woof) can be woven in.
They are the foundation, they hold it together, they give strength and
endurance – take them away and all you have is a tangled pile of fluff. Our community is a stretch of whole cloth, we
are the warp and woof.
If you look at a piece of cloth you see the whole thing, not
the individual threads that hold it together, even though they are the most
important part. What about the people,
almost invisible, in the background giving their time and talents? Things that are unlikely to ever be
documented?
I was going to try to name them – or at least the ones I
could think of – but the list is too long, and I would feel terrible if I
missed someone. Besides, my list would
be from my life perspective. We are all
unique so your list would be different than mine, but every bit as valid.
So I’m challenging you, no matter where you’re from, to form
your own list. Every community has their
own heroes: the guy who refills little kid’s sandboxes every spring for free, the
lady who spearheaded publishing your local history book, the folks tending
flower gardens and watering trees in your public green spaces, teachers who
made a difference in your life, 4-H and scout leaders, ‘Santa’s Helpers’ (even though
they can’t be named due to the nature of their work). The list goes on and on.
Think of them, and thank them. Let them know their threads are appreciated.
I’m back to meditating, or at least thinking about, the
metaphor of us all being a part of the whole cloth of our communities. It’s easy to associate different textures and
colours of thread to the individuals – past/present/future – whose time and
talents have gone/are going/will go into making our fabric unique, and I catch
myself wondering if Dosy’s thread would be silver like her hair?
