Repeated short story and poem.

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WIZARD
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Repeated short story and poem.

Post by WIZARD »

Another repeated short story and poem newer readers may wish to read.


The Old Chinese Woman

An elderly Chinese woman had two large pots, each hung on the ends
of a pole, which she carried across her neck. One of the pots had a crack in it while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water.

At the end of the long walk from the stream to the house, the
cracked pot arrived only half full. For a full two years this went on daily, with the woman bringing home only one and a half pots of water.

Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments. But the
poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that
it could only do half of what it had been made to do.

After 2 years of what it perceived to be bitter failure, it spoke
to the old woman one day by the stream. "I am ashamed of myself, because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your house."

The old woman smiled, "Did you notice that there are flowers on your side of the path, but not on the other pot's side?

That's because I have always known about your flaw, so I planted
flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back,
you water them.

For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to
decorate the table. Without you being just the way you are, there would not be this beauty to grace the house."
Each of us has our own unique flaw. But it's the cracks and flaws we each have that make our lives together so very interesting and rewarding.

You've got to take each person for what they are and look for the good in them.

To all of my crackpot friends, have a great day and remember to smell the flowers......on your side of the path!
_____________________________

The above short story I subsequently put to verse, and renamed it "The Cracked Pot" :-
_____________________________

THE CRACKED POT

A CHINESE WOMAN, OLD AND WORN,
ACROSS HER BACK, A POLE WAS BORNE,
FROM HER POLE, HUNG POTS OF CLAY,
TO FETCH THE WATER, EVERY DAY.

FROM A CRACK, ONE POT WOULD SEEP,
ONLY HALF ITS FILL, COULD KEEP,
THE OTHER FINE, OF EARTHENWARE,
NO CRACK HERE, TO FIND WAS THERE.

FOR TWO YEARS LONG, THIS STATE RAN ON,
THROUGH WINTER WIND, AND SUMMER SUN,
FROM THE STREAM, HER DRINK SHE'D PULL,
HALF MEASURE ONE, THE OTHER FULL.

OF COURSE, THE PERFECT POT WAS PROUD,
AND NOT AFRAID, TO SAY OUT LOUD,
WHAT MEASURE FULL, IT DAILY GAVE,
WHILST CRACKPOT, ONLY HALF COULD SAVE.

BITTER FAILURE, WAS CRACKPOT'S SHAME ,
IT'S IMPERFECTIONS, IT WOULD BLAME,
NO ONE KNEW, HOW SAD IT FELT,
THE CRACK, THE POTTERS KILN HAD DEALT.

TO THE WOMAN, IT DID CONFESS,
OF IT'S SORROW, AND DISTRESS,
EACH DAY SHE'D BORNE IT, DOWN THE ROAD,
AND REPAID HER SPARSELY, WITH HALF A LOAD.

THE WOMAN SMILED, AS WAS HER WAY,
BUT YOU HAVE HELPED, ME EVERY DAY,
YOUR SIDE OF THE PATH, DID YOU SEE,
FLOWERS IN ABUNDANCE, AND YOU HELPED THEM BE.

I PLANTED SEEDS, EACH EARLY SPRING,
A LEAKING POT, WAS JUST THE THING,
OF YOUR IMPERFECTIONS, I'VE ALWAYS KNOWN,
AND WITH YOUR HELP, MY FLOWERS HAVE GROWN.

AS I WALKED, THE LONG WAY HOME,
YOU WATERED DAILY, THE SEEDS I'D SOWN,
THE FLOWERS, HAVE BRIGHTENED UP EACH DAY,
AS I'VE WALKED, THE WEARY WAY.

I PICKED SOME FLOWERS, THEY HELPED ME DREAM,
AS I WALKED, HOME, FROM THE STREAM,
WITHOUT YOU BEING, THE WAY YOU ARE,
MY JOURNEYS END, WOULD SEEM SO FAR.

THEY'VE CHEERED MY HOME, AND TABLE TOO,
AND MUCH OF THIS, I OWE TO YOU.
SO PLEASE DON'T THINK, THAT YOUR NO GOOD,
YOU HELPED ME, LIKE NO OTHER COULD.

IT'S THE CRACKS, AND FLAWS, THAT ARE THE THING,
THAT MAKE THIS LIFE, SO INTERESTING,
FOR EACH ONE, IN THIS WORLD'S A PLACE,
IN EACH, AND EVERY ONE, IS GRACE.

YOU'VE GOT TO TAKE EACH, AS THEY ARE,
WITH BLEMISH , WEAKNESS, MAR OR SCAR,
FOR IF YOU LOOK THERE, DEEP AND HARD,
YOU'LL SEE LIKE YOU, LIFE'S MADE THEM SCARRED.
_______________________________


WIZARD
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