The Knifemaker
He was a cheeky little traveller kid, about eight years old and egged on by his feisty mates.
“I want to make a dagger.”
“I’m sorry, I don’t do weapons,”
And we had a conversation about the difference between weapons and tools; simply put, tools are designed to make a task easier, while weapons are designed for attack or defence against a living creature. Tools can be used as weapons, but that’s not their primary intention. I explained that I mainly use reclaimed and recycled metals and that having long been part of the peace movement, I’m more up for turning swords into ploughshares than the other way round!
His mates hung back, got bored and melted away.
“So I can make a knife?”
“We can make a knife if you put tool-making energy into it.”
And that’s what we did. It was very crude and wouldn’t be very effective, made from a single piece of flat, mild steel bar. We heated and folded over a third of the length and riveted it for the handle then hammered the remaining single layer into a rough blade shape. It came to grinding an edge and,
“Can we put an edge on both sides of the blade?”
I raised an eyebrow and he knew he’d been rumbled.
“I’m not daft – a blade with an edge on both sides is a dagger and we’re making a knife!”
He grinned!
“Aw… OK!”
But he took his time and carefully hammered then ground an edge on just the one side.
By now he’d totally got into the process and was incredibly chuffed by the time he’d finished and polished it and couldn’t wait to show his mum.
“Have you got some leather I can wrap it in to take it home, cos I don’t want to walk across site with an open blade?”
I didn’t, but I found some fabric which did the job and accompanied him as he proudly strode back across the field, holding it out in front of him in both hands like treasure.
Some years later a young man approached me at a different festival.
“I don’t know if you remember me?”
“Remind me. I do a lot of workshops and you all grow and change.”
“A long time ago I made a knife with you… it was brilliant!”
I beamed!
“Of course I remember you – I remember it well.”
He must have been just into his teens.
“Can I make something with you? I want to make something for my mum and all the other blacksmiths here are making weapons.”
I could have hugged him. We discussed a simple poker or toasting fork,
“…or we could make a very pretty and decorative S shaped hook.”
“That’d be brilliant! She can hang it in her bender. She’d love that!”
So that’s what we did, companionably forging a gift for his mum.
He left me cake and happily trotted off across the field, this time needing no chaperone.
Kate The Wordsmith 