I must tell you about the strangest dream I had last night……….. I dreamed I was standing in a corner of a “wooden” room, a sort of attic. High ceilings with wooden beams across them, little shadowy nooks and corners all around that I could not see into. It seemed I was looking in on a scene, but was not a part of it. The only light was from a high window set at a slant in the ceiling. Through this sunbeams streamed into the middle of the room, and as they danced around they dispelled any thought of shadows and gloom in the areas where they alighted. In the middle of the room, directly under the sunlight was an old-fashioned wooden hand- operated weaving loom. Standing next to the loom was a woman dressed in a long pale blue dress, her hair tied up in a bun. She seemed imbued with a calmness and serenity that radiated from her into her surroundings. I felt a kind of envy that I could see and sense this but not partake. She was feeding threads into the loom. No ordinary threads these; I could see no evidence of any spindle or reel. She seemed to be gathering them from thin air. The woven cloth itself fascinated me! As it was being woven it was just falling onto the floor in a pool of fabric on the other side of the loom. From my vantage point I could not clearly make out the colour, patterns and textures of the fabric, but it seemed to me to be very dark and gloomy. I gained the impression of dank heavy cloth, a bit depressing actually, would not be my choice at all were the choice mine. Suddenly the woman stopped weaving. She moved to the pool of cloth on the floor, felt around for the ends of the cloth and shook it up and out much as one shakes out a sheet or blanket before laying it on a bed. For an instant as she shook the cloth, it was caught in the light from the window above, and what a transformation! What had seemed to me to be dark dank and gloomy was with the addition of the light transformed into a cloth that seemed to come alive. There was light and life and bright-jeweled colours, even the black seemed that of the glossy raven’s wing, and the browns took on russet hues. The atmosphere in the room was changed to one of love and laughter and happiness, and I felt as I looked on this beautiful cloth like a happy child at a picnic. I wanted to dance around and giggle and laugh too. Then the woman gently laid the cloth back on the floor, turned to the corner where I was standing, looked me straight in the eye and said: “My child, do you not understand what this is, this cloth that I am weaving? I am your destiny, your personal “fate” if you would, and this cloth that I am weaving is the very fabric of your life, your existence. Do you see now what a beautiful magical thing your life is in reality?” The realization came over me in a rush! What my dream was all about! I, who had been so depressed and negative and worried lately, had been given in my dream an opportunity to look glimpse the making of my life in the image of a continually woven cloth. The cloth pooled on the floor had seemed dark and heavy and gloomy, just as I viewed my life as being. However when held up to and caught in the light, I saw the fabric of my very life as it really was! Filled with light and love and laughter. So many good things (too many to count) sewn into the fabric of my life. The many hurts, and obstacles and dark moments were there too, but when blended with all the other threads of my life did not seem so bad or despairing The love and concern of family and friends. The many happy moments, the brief encounters with strangers that changed my life forever. All the many and varied threads and colours merged together in a vibrant kaleidoscope! The whole covered with a sort of rainbow patina, a finish so exquisite that there was no mistaking it for what it was: The blessing of the Lord! The promise that throughout all the phases of the weaving of my life’s pattern, He was there and He was always in control. As the dream faded, and I awoke back once more in the reality of my everyday existence. I felt for the first time in a long time, a calmness and serenity too and realized just how privileged I had been to be allowed a glimpse of the weaving of my own life. © Copyright Gillian P Stokes March 2003