Some time ago Scott
Russell Sanders wrote a
beautiful essay entitled
``The Inheritance of Tools.’’
In it he tells of how his father
taught him carpentry
and the proper use and care
of tools. It is an essay filled
with lovely and poignant
moments. What I remember
most often is his father’s
advice with respect to building
anything.
It is to make sure at every
step along the way that
things are straight, plumb,
and true.
It is advice well taken,
whether it refers to making
a concrete object or patrolling
one’s character.
Earlier today I put the
finishing touches to a toy
chest for my six-month old
grandson Grant.
It is my present to him
on the occasion of his first
Christmas. Of course, the
greatest gift of all to us was
his coming into the world to
be a part of our family. A
close friend with far more
cabinetmaking skills than I
can claim to have helped
me get the project started.
As I have worked on it sporadically
for the past several
weeks, Sanders’s father’s
advice kept me on my
toes.
I have learned a lot
about woodworking and
have found it so rewarding
an activity that I have
signed up for a course offered
by a local craftsman.
It is true that we learn from
our mistakes.
I have made my fair
share and while there are
some imperfections here
and there, the end product
is really something to be
proud of.
Next time around I will
do a few things differently.
And while I know that each
project offers up its own peculiar
difficulties, the beauty
of such endeavors is that
the immunities one builds
up to earlier blunders enable
one to more adeptly
tackle future challenges.
My son loves to chide me
about what he sometimes
refers to as my "cob-job’’
carpentry skills.
At times he has had a
point, but I think this time
around he will be pleasantly
delighted by the craftsmanship
it took to make
this present for his son.
The friend who gave so
generously of his time and
knowledge approached
things as I know Sanders’s
father world have.
We very assiduously
made double and triple sure
that our cuts and fits were
straight and true. As we
worked I thought about the
moral and aesthetical aspects
of what we were up
to.
I also became more
aware than I ever have
been of the need to be patient
— as well as forgiving.
Forgiving because no matter
how diligent one is at
times things will just not
turn out right.
Patience is absolutely
necessary because to do
anything well takes time,
sometimes a very long time.
If I have been guilty of inferior
work at times it is because
I have not been willing
to take my time.
This project has reinforced
for me in innumerable
ways the value of patience.
Sometimes it is
necessary to be reminded of
what one already knows
but has been unwilling to
accept.
I look forward to seeing
the look on my son’s face
when we deliver the chest
next week.
I also look forward to my
grandson’s being old enough
to use and appreciate his
grandfather’s gift. Most of
all I look forward to being
part of his life — one that is
straight, plumb, and true.
