The Way of the Potter
Spinning clay on a wheel, a teapot forms. Grandfathers’ warm calloused hands guide mine; molding and shaping, smoothing and sculpting. The spout now attached, it is placed outside with the others.
“Remember Jacob, never rush the process. They must dry before entering the oven. Someday you will teach this to your own children.”
The kiln is fired, they’re ready to go, where soft clay becomes strong, and painted colors, now muted, will shine like stars. But wait! Where is the teapot?
Grandfather spots it under the table, the spout detached, its body pecked through with holes from swallows gathering nesting material. “What a nasty storm this is! The wind must have knocked it off the table. Come,” says Grandfather. “We will create a new one.”
I sense he is testing me. “You told me once that even broken things have value.”
Grandfather chuckles, a gleam in his eye. “I’ve taught you well! What use can it have now, I wonder?”
Suddenly, the lights flicker, and go out. Darkness surrounds us. When grandfather returns with a flash light, an idea forms, and I know exactly what to do with the broken teapot! I whisper my plan to grandfather, who beams in delight.
Grandpa hums as we repair the teapot. “There is much of life in you yet!” he announces, sealing up the tear where the spout had been. We even add more holes!
The moon rises as we put away the now cooled vessels. Before turning out the lights, grandfather places something inside of the teapot - and lights it. A glowing blaze pours forth, casting amazing shapes that dance around the room. A teapot no longer, it is now a lantern, holding not water, but light! Walking home through the dark wood, the lantern shines, chasing away the shadows.
During life’s stormy trials, I still hear grandfathers voice, full of wisdom: “Always remember Jacob, the way of the potter: when an opportunity is lost, a new one is found. One adventure ends, and another begins.”
END
