The web

  • by Athanasia Diamantopoulou

     

     
    "No! Don' t destroy it!"
    Grandpa looked so serious that he made me stop and think. Finally, I decided to listen to him although, as a city child, I used to crush insects like that after destroying their webs without thinking twice. Maybe because I was scared of them or maybe because I was impulsive and thoughtless. The fact is that the beige, not so small spider hanging from the kitchen door was rescued by my grandpa' s advice that morning.
    "But why, grandpa? It will bite me! It's so big it could even bite you!"
    Grandpa thought for a moment and then he said:
    "Come here, Johnny. Let me tell you a story. One day that big spider on the door woke up. There was a lot for her to do that day. Like every day she had to take care of her web. I must tell you something about webs, Johnny. Webs are complicated things to make but spiders are masters at spinning webs. It's their profession to construct them, it's their entire life. In there they patiently wait to catch small insects, food which is substantial for living. And if the web is broken the spider builds a new one. Have you noticed a web from close up? They look so beautiful, so silky silver as they glisten in the sunlight. They are woven so skillfully. They start small and they extend to what could be a work of art in terms of complexity and refinement."
    Grandpa was being carried away by his description. He seemed to pay a lot of respect to spiders for the mere fact that they were masters of webs.
    "Yes, grandpa! I know what you are saying. My teacher has explained that in class."
    "Good!" Grandpa said and his eyes brightened as if he had suddenly found something.
    "So, imagine that the spider in our story is like your teacher. She weaves her web skillfully with different kinds of silky threads to catch her food like your teacher weaves her lesson around a topic providing you with knowledge through engaging activities, interesting projects, fun and enthusiasm, to catch your interest. And when the web is broken, when some knowledge is missing, she provides it at once so that the web is intact again. Do you get the picture, Johnny?"
    "Yes, grandpa!"
    "Now imagine what could happen to you and your class if your teacher could not give you the knowledge that you need for your life. If her lessons were not so engaging for one reason or another so that you lost interest in learning. Wouldn' t that be a disaster?"
    I nodded in agreement.
    "Johnny, the fact that this is a tiny insect hanging from our kitchen door doesn' t mean that you have the right to disrespect it. Respect its struggle to make webs to survive like you must respect your teacher's struggle to make you learn."
    I looked towards the kitchen door again. The web was there, intact, and so was the spider.
    From that day on, whenever I see a spider' s web, I picture my dear teacher weaving her lesson like a silky web that glistens in the sunlit classroom.

     

    the actual spider that I got my inspiration from for this story