Got this story from a camp 2 years ago. It touched my heart then. Guess it still does now...
The Glassblower
Walking past the little shop I saw a flash of light in my peripheral vision. I turned to see where it had come from and I was fascinated to see a glassblower at work. A very large window was in the front of the shop so that passersby could watch the process. He would blow air into the hot glass through a long tube and then take it in very long metal tongs. The tongs were made so that by manipulating them in a certain way, they could clip the glass here and there, and then mold it into the desired shape.
Then the glassblower placed the partially shaped glass into an extremely hot oven. I could see the yellow flames leaping high as he opened the oven door and placed the glass inside. When the fire had accomplished its purpose and the glass was made pliable, it was withdrawn from the fire and shaped a little more. After that, it was promptly put back into the fire. When the firing and the molding were complete, the piece was placed on a shelf to cool.
As I stood there watching this process, I was thinking of the glass as if it was me. I was thinking about how all that stretching and bending and cutting and being placed in such a hot fire over and over again would feel. I would not like to be in the glassblower’s hands! Then I turned to look at his display case which was positioned so that the bright morning sun streamed straight through it. When I observed the exquisite beauty of the delicately crafted glass pieces that sparkled with rainbow-like colors as they reflected the light of the golden sun, then I knew that the end result was worth the pain.
The Glassblower
Walking past the little shop I saw a flash of light in my peripheral vision. I turned to see where it had come from and I was fascinated to see a glassblower at work. A very large window was in the front of the shop so that passersby could watch the process. He would blow air into the hot glass through a long tube and then take it in very long metal tongs. The tongs were made so that by manipulating them in a certain way, they could clip the glass here and there, and then mold it into the desired shape.
Then the glassblower placed the partially shaped glass into an extremely hot oven. I could see the yellow flames leaping high as he opened the oven door and placed the glass inside. When the fire had accomplished its purpose and the glass was made pliable, it was withdrawn from the fire and shaped a little more. After that, it was promptly put back into the fire. When the firing and the molding were complete, the piece was placed on a shelf to cool.
As I stood there watching this process, I was thinking of the glass as if it was me. I was thinking about how all that stretching and bending and cutting and being placed in such a hot fire over and over again would feel. I would not like to be in the glassblower’s hands! Then I turned to look at his display case which was positioned so that the bright morning sun streamed straight through it. When I observed the exquisite beauty of the delicately crafted glass pieces that sparkled with rainbow-like colors as they reflected the light of the golden sun, then I knew that the end result was worth the pain.
