Ñanduti is a type of thin lace handmade by women in Paraguay. Ñanduti can be made into many things, such as a scarf, tablecloth, or blanket. A mantilla is often made of this fine lace. It is worn by some women like a veil over their head and shoulders.

As Celina walked along the main road in the town of Itaugua, Paraguay, she smiled at all the wonderful sights and smells. Along the side of the road, men and women sold goods from their street shops. Some were selling beans and peanuts, while others sold hats, mats, and many other things. Celina paused at one of the many shops where women were selling mantillas. She admired the delicate lace mantillas that many women in Paraguay both sell and wear. Most of the lace mantillas were white, but some were more colorful. At last Celina hurried on to Tía Lidia’s house. Celina liked to visit her aunt every day.

Like the women Celina had seen at the street shops, Tía Lidia made lace. Celina had always been fascinated by the wooden frame that stood in the corner of the house. She loved to watch her aunt stand at the frame, working the delicate strands of linen or silk. Most of all, she loved the pretty lace pieces called ñanduti that Tía Lidia created. Tía Lidia made everything from small lace collars to long, flowing dresses.

This morning, when Celina arrived at her aunt’s house, Tía Lidia was working on an elegant lace tablecloth. She had been working on the tablecloth for several weeks. First Tía Lidia had placed a sheet of linen on the wooden frame. Then she had drawn a pattern of circles and fancy designs on the material. Finally she had begun carefully removing some of the threads from the material and weaving other threads across the open spaces. It was a difficult process that would produce a thin, detailed lace.

As Tía Lidia worked, Celina walked around the room and admired some of the lovely pieces her aunt had made. She smiled when she saw one rectangular piece of lace that lay over a bench. Celina carefully lifted it and settled it over her head like a veil. She peered out from behind the finely woven patterns. She thought that this must be how the world looked to new brides. “This looks like a spider’s web,” she said.

“That’s because that’s what it is,” Tía Lidia said, winking. “In Guaraní, the old language of Paraguay, ñanduti means ‘web.’” Tía Lidia paused as she carefully wove a thread into the tablecloth. “Have I ever told you the story of the white spider?” she asked at last.

“No, Tía Lidia. Tell me!”

The dark-haired woman stepped away from the frame and smoothed her colorful skirt. “Every young girl in Paraguay should know this story. But this story needs a nice cup of yerba mate.” As Tía Lidia prepared the hot drink, she told Celina about the lace Tía Lidia’s mother had woven. “My mother told me this story when I was learning to make ñanduti.

“A very long time ago,” Tía Lidia began, “when a young man named Juan was fetching water for his mother to make tea with, he saw a white spider struggling in the stream. Quickly he scooped out the spider and placed it gently on the leaves of a yerba tree.”

“Isn’t this yerba mate made from the leaves of a yerba tree?” Celina asked.

 “That’s right,” Tía Lidia said with a smile. “Every day, when Juan went to fill up the water jugs, he saw the white spider waiting for him. He began to think of the spider as a friend to whom he could tell all his troubles. One day he told the spider about a lovely woman with whom he had fallen in love. However, in those days, it was the custom in Paraguay for a woman’s father to choose her husband. This woman’s father had said, ‘I want to make sure my daughter is well cared for. Whoever brings forth the most wonderful and original gift shall win her hand.’ Juan was very sad. He knew he could never afford such a gift. The next day, however, when he returned to the spring, he saw that his friend was almost finished spinning a fragile silk cloth. Juan could see that it was the most exquisite lace mantilla he had ever seen. Juan knew the mantilla would look lovely draped around the shoulders of the woman he adored.

 “The patterns of the mantilla were of all the native flowers of the area. Leaves and vines and drops of dew then surrounded the flowers. Instantly Juan understood what the spider had done. He ran off to present his gift. When he reached the village and placed the mantilla upon the woman, her face immediately lit up. She was radiant. Everyone around her gasped. They all knew at once that this mantilla was the most wonderful gift a woman could receive. Juan and the woman were married right away.”

 “From then on,” finished Tía Lidia, “the women of Paraguay have tried to duplicate the delicate lace. We have woven the lace for years, but no one has been able to equal that made by the white spider. Still, our lace is famous for its splendor.”

Celina smiled at the wonderful tale she had just heard. “Now that I know the story of the white spider, perhaps it is time I learned to make lace.”