Trafford Publishing: A Tapestry of Life

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A Tapestry of Life

by Elsabé Smit

120 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #04-0743; ISBN 1-4120-2915-5; US$15.99, C$19.99, EUR12.99, £8.99

A collection of verbal snapshots that describe a definitive moment in the lives of various people. They make us think about how our life experiences shape us, and they give hope.

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about the book about the author excerpts catalogue info

About the Book

This book is a collection of verbal snapshots of the lives of various people. Each story describes a definitive moment in the life of a person and then provides a history of preceding events, or an indication of how the person's life will develop.
The themes are universal and not associated to any particular group or culture. They tend to touch on a nerve in the reader's own experience and make us think about what is really important in life. The stories indicate that we are not alone in how we experience life, and all experiences we have are necessary because they shape us into the people we are. The illustrations support the themes of the stories and add lightness to the reading.
This book can be enjoyed by any reader, or be used for meditation or spiritual groupwork.

About the Author

Elsabé Smit has successfully published academic textbooks for tertiary education students in South Africa. This is her first venture into the fiction market. Elsabé has had various careers and is currently working in the IT industry. She has a spiritual outlook on life and has guided many people in their search for an understanding of life and inner peace. She intends to focus more on this aspect of her life and this book is another step in her new career as spiritual guide.
Tina Davies is a graphic artist who owns the greeting card business Grogrogro.

Excerpts

The Visitors
His mind started to wander. Thoughts flitted through, but he could not hold on to any of them. He felt wide awake and expectant.
Why? No particular reason. It was just A day when the goodness of everything around him seeped through him.
He opened his eyes and turned his head slightly so that he would not need to look into the sun and suddenly he was fully awake and staring.
She was the most awesome creature he had ever encountered. She was dainty, petite, with long, flowing hair. She was hovering just above the grass. Perfectly shaped. But tiny and hovering.
She smiled at him.
He closed his eyes, and tried to erase the image. He playfully opened one eye, trying to convince himself that she was a creature of his imagination. She was still there, with an impish smile and one eye also closed.
He opened both eyes.
She was still there, laughing. She twirled around like a thought, not touching anything, not even the grass.
Happy Couples
On stage she was the femme fatale of another era. She was a strong, beautiful woman and the matriarch of the stage family. She ruled them with an iron hand and a heart of gold.
Off the stage she was a broken woman. And still acting. Only one or two of her closest friends knew that her world had fallen apart.
For years she was the epitome of the perfect woman. She was beautiful and talented, with a successful career in a very competitive and demanding world. An average of three films every two years. Stage productions. Success as a director. Married to the perfect husband, with two perfect children. Happily married.
Until the boy knocked on her dressing room door. He was the spitting image of her husband at a younger age. Her initial reaction was surprise, but before she could even let a thought enter her mind, he started to speak.
He told her that her husband was his father. That he was terminally ill and needed a match for a bone marrow transplant. He needed a match from a sibling.
He had talked to his father about it. Yes, his father knew about him. He had had contact with his father once a week since he was born. Seventeen years ago. He has been aware of both his half-sisters for many years. A heavy burden for a boy to carry.
The Cure
Now he was standing on this street corner, alone, with the fear welling up in him. His tears kept flowing. He was no longer even looking around him. He just cried. When the tears dried up, he just stood there. Empty. Alone.
A man came walking up to him. He turned his face away, waiting to hear the man's footsteps pass. The footsteps did not pass. They stopped next to him.
He felt embarrassed about his swollen eyes. He would not look at the man, and hoped that the man would leave. But the man stayed.
He was puzzled. He looked at the man. The man looked back at him. There was such compassion on the man's face.
"Everything will be fine. There is nothing to fear."
He jerked his head up. For a moment he thought about rebuffing this stranger who was invading his space. But he saw such love in the stranger's face, and the words died on his lips. He just closed his eyes. A feeling of complete relief swept through him. At that moment he knew everything would be fine. He no longer feared.
He opened his eyes and started to thank the stranger. There was nobody there. He was alone. He looked around. The street was empty as far as he could see. He stepped back and looked up and down the other street. Not a soul in sight. He was the only one outside.
The Healer
She slowly became drowsy and was not even aware that she fell asleep. She was walking in this beautiful garden with strange flowers that she did not recognize. She tried to pick one, but then realized that the flower would die the moment she picked it.
She met a very old man with a long grey beard, wearing a white robe. He took her by the hand and they walked through the garden. He pointed out various flowers to her and told her about the healing qualities of each. She reacted to this by memorizing the information, but in some way she felt she already knew all this. He was so kind, and looked at her with pride. They reached the end of the garden path, and there was a gate.
He opened the gate and gently told her that she must continue walking, but he would remain in the garden. He also told her that all she needed to do to contact him was think about him, and he would answer.
The girl woke up with a smile on her face. The sound of the voices that brought her back grew louder, and then the room was full of girls talking about their hair, exchanging clothes and laughing about their girlie jokes.
The Lovers
He got onto the bicycle again with a determined expression on his face. He was going to at least see her. If she did not want him there, then she could say so and maybe they could talk about it.
He looked up as he was approaching the house, half expecting to see her standing at the window. She was not there. The house had a forlorn look.
He reached the porch and made his bicycle stand against the pillar. He walked up the stairs, softly, as if he did not want to disturb the silence surrounding the place.
He reached for the door, paused, and knocked softly. She lifted her head. Did she hear something? She ran to the window, anticipation welling up in her. Nothing. The road was empty.
Then she heard it again. A soft but determined knock on the door.
She ran to the door and opened it.
He stood there, with the cycling helmet in his hand like an offering. He had tried without success to flatten his hair. He has a nervous look on his face, like a schoolboy who did not know whether to expect praise or a scolding.
She felt her shoulders sag with relief and looked up at him. She reached her arms out.

Catalogue Information