Frostfire found Gwacie’s email in her inbox. “SILLY Gwacie!” she thought to herself after reading it. “How could I not like it??” And she awaited her package’s arrival with eager anticipation.
Late Friday afternoon, after a morning of teaching and an afternoon of working on her friend Mincot’s computer and playing with Mincot’s cats, Frostfire arrived home to find a box carefully placed on her desk. “It’s here!!! It’s here!!!” she exclaimed, eagerly reaching for the scissors to carefully slit open the tape. After gently removing the top layer of bubble wrap, she found not one, but three items tucked amongst the padding. “Oh my, whatever has that Gwacie done??” she thought.
She pulled out the largest item, knowing it had to be the candlestand. She carefully removed layer upon layer of bubble wrap, delicately slitting the tape apart to avoid any chance of scratching or damaging her treasure. As the bottom of the candlestand came into view, she smiled at the little blue flower attached to the spiral. Another couple of layers of bubble wrap, and the rest of the candlestand was revealed. “Oh, how wonderful! Gwacie had no reason to think I would be unhappy with this! I know exactly where it will go, in a special place of high honor in my studio.”
Gently setting it on her desk, Frostfire unwrapped the tissue around the second, cylindrical item. As she looked at it, she laughed. It had started life as a pink pencil case, but now bore the words “emergency chocolate” on the lid, and contained three chocolate bars inside. “Ha, how did Gwacie know I didn’t have a special place for my emergency chocolate stash? I can definitely use this,” she mused.
The third wrapped object was square and flattish. “Hmmm. This must be what Gwacie said she was doing with the original piece that cracked. I wonder…” Indeed, the tissue paper parted to reveal a square fused tile? candle stand? plate? or…well, who knows what myriad of things it could be used for? “Oh, yes, I can think of so many ways I can use this. I will have to try them all out to see where it goes best.”
As Frostfire looked at the fused tile, she saw the meandering line where the original crack had occurred. It reminded her of how she had learned, in her own past days as a weaver, that the Navajo rug weavers would always leave a deliberate flaw in the design of their exquisite rugs. The “spirit trail,” as it was called, in no way detracted from the beauty of the rug, but left a path for the spirit of the rug to find its way from the center to the border. It also served as a reminder that nothing in the world is perfect, and what some might consider flaws in no way detract from the beauty of the world and all within it.
Frostfire was happy. Gwacie was happy. And the world was a good place for glassworkers and friends.