THE CRACKED POT
A lone figure set against the evening sky looked more like a painting than
reality. His slow movement, however, confirmed he was real. The stark
landscape ached with desolation. The fissured land lay almost naked. Cattle
limped around with bones protruding, and an occasional spurt of cactus stood
in solitude where shrubs and trees once jostled together. In the midst of
this landscape stood a sprawling house with a pretty garden.
Hari, the water bearer, was the silhouetted figure, balancing a pole across
his shoulders with two pots suspended from it. Daily he walked the parched
land to a well, drew water, and traced his way back to his master’s house.
He was responsible for its water supply, but on one such journey he noticed
that one of the earthen pots had a crack.
Hari, who was in the habit of talking to his surroundings, found he was
suddenly interruped by a loud sigh.
“Who did that?” Hari asked.
Picking up its cue, the cracked pot let out another sigh. “What is it?” Hari
asked.
“I’m sorry,” came the reply.
“Why, what’s the matter?” Hari asked.
“Oh, Sir, I’m useless. I keep leaking so much water. Look at my brother on
the other side. He always delivers a full pot. He has reason to be proud.”
“Don’t worry,” Hari replied. But the cracked pot could not suppress its
feeling of failure.
Several days later, Hari stopped in his tracks and looked at the cracked
pot. “Look! Look down on your side of the pathway. Do you see anything?”
“Yes,” the cracked pot sighed. “I see some grass and a few flowers.”
“You see,” the water bearer said, “I knew you were leaking, so I took
advantage of it and planted seeds along your side of the path. And now
you’ve done me so proud. You have given life to the dry earth. And look at
the green grass, the flowers and butterflies. Now, my precious, I can even
cut some of these pretty flowers for my master’s vase. You may be a cracked
pot, but that is what God uses to create beauty in this world.”
The cracked pot looked around and its face said it all.
[Adapted from an Hindu folk tale by Sunithi Gnanadoss]
~~
Dr Bob Griffin, www.grif.net
1 cross + 3 nails = 4 given