A true story.
There once was a spider who climbed into a lush, seven-foot fir tree somewhere in Oregon. This happened sometime in September or October. She wove a small, silken pad deep among the needles and laid hundreds of eggs upon it. Then she spun layer after layer of silk over them, sealing them in a warm, white chamber. Her life’s work.
Having fulfilled the measure of her creation, she went where all spiders go. But where is that? Are spiders elegant biological machines, or are they living souls? I don’t know. Perhaps at some future date we’ll be blessed to understand such things.
What we do know is this: as autumn cooled, the temperature dropped below fifty degrees, and her eggs slipped into dormancy. October passed into November. And sometime in the last days of November or early December, humans with chainsaws arrived for the final harvest.
The tree was cut, loaded onto a truck, bundled into a refrigerated trailer, and shipped hundreds of miles away to a Smith’s Marketplace in Logan, Utah. There is stood with a number of other trees in the area just outside the front doors in the snow and cold and fluorescent lights. How many days and nights it waited there, we don’t know. But one evening, a mother and father and their four girls arrived to find their Christmas tree.
They walked among the evergreens, feeling for soft needles, breathing in the deep, resinous smells. They found the tree. It was perfect. They paid for it, tied it to the top of their minivan, and drove home over the mountains to the south end of the lake. Then they set it up, the father complaining, as he always did, about the goofy screw-stabilizers, strung the lights, and hung ornaments from past Christmases. The little tree filled the room with warmth, scent, and memory.
On Christmas morning they came down to open presents. As the sun rose, the light through the front window illuminated the tree. And something was different.
The branches shimmered.
The girls peered closer to investigate.
And found thin silk filaments. Everywhere. And then, to their shock, they saw that the whole tree was alive, moving with hundreds of baby spiders. A small horde that had warmed over the days and hatched silently sometime in the deep night after Santa and Mrs. Claus had gone to bed. A small horde that had then gotten to work—tiny, mad elves weaving their own gossamer garlands through the branches.
When the girls realized what they were seeing, there were shrieks of horror. Then the father, not knowing what else to do, escorted the tree, its decorations, and mad elves outside into the cold. The father returned, closed the door, and the whole family stood there, looking at the tree out on the deck, a bit stunned.
All these years later, it’s one of our family’s warm and funny memories. But if you ponder it just a little longer, it’s also one that lingers.
Are spiders merely elegant machines? Or are they living souls? Do they have claim upon us? Should a swarm of locusts or an infestation of roaches be preserved?
I will leave such questions to you, Dear Reader.
In the meantime, I wish you the merriest of Christmases. Whatever you believe or don’t, may you receive a measure of divine light this season—and reflect it, to brighten the world, if even just a little, for creatures both great and small.
John
I find the LDStorymakers author’s guild rather offputting, considering their requirement for membership. It seems to me that anyone who is not LDS who pays to attend this conference is helping to fund a group who would never allow them to join.
I don’t belong to the guild, but it’s still a great conference.
JohnW,
Who said anything about membership? I’m not a member of the group.
Folks don’t go to the conference to fund something or join the organization. Who cares about joining? They go because they feel two days of education are worth the dough. This is an educational and networking event. If the education and meeting opportunities are worth it, then it could be sponsored by the Ex-Clowns of Russia, and it wouldn’t matter (alas, such a highly-prestigious group I won’t be able to join).
You know, it could have been a closed conference. But by opening it to the like-minded public, they are able to offer more to everyone. The key is whether there are going to be folks there in your genre and doing your thing. If not, don’t spend the money. If so, it’s an excellent opportunity.
You don’t need to become a Shriner to like their hospitals 😉
I said something about membership. I’m not sure why you reacted so defensively.
As I said, I find the rules of membership of their author’s guild off-putting. If I went to a conference of theirs, every time I met or listened to someone in the guild I would be thinking that here was someone who would not let me into their guild, even if I became a published author.
Clearly that does not bother some people. But it would bother me. If they were good teachers and mentors and earned my respect, it would be even worse, since I could not aspire to one day join their guild.
JohnW,
I guess you and I have different goals when it comes to these things. I suppose if my goal were to join a group then this would indeed be a waste of time. And off-putting.
My goal is different at these things. Like I said: I wouldn’t go to a Shriner’s hospital because I wanted to join the Shriners. I have no intention of becoming a Mason. I’d go to get medical services. Which is why my original post was not intended to suggest people join LDStorymakers. It was intended to highlight great “services” for like-minded authors.
None of the guests are members of the group. Neither are many of the presenters. Nor a huge number of the attendees. Contacts and aquaintances made have nothing to do with any group.
But if that’s your goal, then you’re right, it’s going to be counterproductive. My job here is not to convince anyone they must go. I just want to make my post clear, and that is for folks looking for great education and contact opportunities, this is an excellent opportunity.
Thanks for the shout-out John, though the email you got the dates off of was wrong. It’s actually May 9-11. (Thursday through Saturday, not over the weekend.) Thanks for being willing to present again this year. We’re really excited about the lineup of guests and fantastic classes.
Doh! Dates edited.