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Hello, I am Cheryl Brunette, and today I am going to read you a story that partly explains why we
do what we do. It is from the book CRAFT TRADITIONS OF THE WORLD, and it is the prologue story, "The
Sultan Who Became a Weaver."
There was once a Sultan in a far off land. He was wise and beneficent, just and merciful, a father
to his people. But one day he turned to his vizier with a troubled look upon his handsome face.
"What am I to do my friend?" he asked. "I am rich and powerful with servants to supply my
every need. I have a beautiful wife, and children who are the joy of my heart.
Yet I am restless and unfulfilled."
"Well my lord," answered the vizier, "you must learn a craft. Every man should learn a craft.
I will call all the master craftsmen to the palace to demonstrate their skills, and you can choose
from amongst them." So the vizier summoned the craftsmen. The master potter, the master
carpenter, the master coppersmith, and the most skillful artificers of every trade and they
demonstrated their skills before the Sultan.
The Sultan watched, and finally he called the master weaver to him and engaged him as a
teacher. Every day, the master weaver came to the palace and showed the Sultan how to set up
the warps on his loom, and how to open the shed, how to send the shuttle flying from side to
side and how to beat the weft down tight.
Every day, before he sat in court or held audience, the Sultan practiced on his loom. And every
day, his skill increased and he found a sense of peace and contentment come upon him. The
Sultan had become skillful on the loom, and particularly adept at weaving a pattern of flowers.
He made rugs for his wife and his children, for his vizier and for his favorite courtiers,
all with a pattern of flowers.
Now one night, the Sultan called the vizier and as was their practice, they went out in disguise to
see how things were amongst their subjects. Returning home before dawn, they were set upon by
a band of robbers who mistook them for a pair of merchants. The brigands tied them securely and
locked them in a house in a back alley intending to sell two such healthy specimens to a slave
trader at a good price.
"Wait," said the Sultan. "I might be worth more to you if you don't sell me. I'm a skilled weaver
and my weavings would fetch you a great deal of money." Well the robbers were intrigued and
set up a loom in the courtyard and watched as the Sultan's shuttle flew back and forth as the
pattern of flowers began to appear.
"Now that is what I called weaving," exclaimed the chief of the robbers, who was used to
handling expensive merchandise, even if it was usually stolen. "When he is finished we could sell
this at the royal palace." And indeed, when the Sultan had finished, the chief of the robbers
himself took the rug to the palace and showed it to the first courtier he met.
"Just wait here," ordered the courtier who recognized the pattern of flowers. "The Sultana herself
should see this. I'm sure she would pay a lot of money for such fine workmanship." And he
hurried off to show the Sultana.
The Sultana, who had been beside herself with anxiety over the mysterious disappearance of her
husband, instructed the courtier to give the robber a large bag of gold for the rug, but to have him
followed when he left. The delighted robber swaggered home with the gold, but as he entered
his house, the armed men the Sultana had sent rushed in, rescued the Sultan and the vizier and
arrested the band of robbers.
After he had returned to the embraces of his relieved family, the Sultan sat upon his thrown and
had the robbers summoned to his presence. "Take these men away," he said, "and lock them in a
cell with a loom. When they have learned how to weave a carpet, you may let them go. After all,
it is my firm belief that every man should learn a craft."
And every woman, I would add. My wish for you for this year is that it would be filled with
robust health, beautiful yarns, and the courage to play with them in a way that will surprise you.
Until I see you again, enjoy your knitting.
Who would-it's right under my nose and I can't even read it.
Don't stop the camera. Let's keep running. Okay.
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