Lina began to feel angry. She tried to drown the feeling and just enjoy the swayng ride, as she had learned to do. But the anger grew. It would have helped if she could see the face, but she couldn't. Or feel the hands. This was terrible. That was all. Terrible! Something the maker had proclaimed perfect and beautiful was to be packed away and forgotten! After all she - they - had been through!
Another long time passed. Days. Weeks? Maybe not, but it seemed like it. It was almost as bad as the early days after the plants had been torn from their field. Not because of physical pain, but because of emotional pain. Lina's anger seethed. Why should they have to just take it and take it and take it? The didn't even know what the purpose was yet! After all this time!
Some of the other threads felt the same way, but finally, quieter ones managed to have a say. They said everything they could think of to try to calm the others. One phrase stuck in Lina's mind. "The hands didn't do all this just to leave us now. It can't be for nothing. We just have to wait."
Wait! Again? Gradually, Lina calmed. Well, if nothing else, she knew how to wait. She knew, too, that the hands and the face, whether she could see them or not, were nearby. At last, she added her voice to the steady ones, and the length of linen settled with a sigh to wait. "We can imagine the face," she suggested. "We can see it in our minds. Surely it will smile again."
So they waited.
To be continued. . .
Repairing the Breach,
Debbonnaire
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