The
Broken Pot
author unknown
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A water bearer
in India had two large pots, and each hung on opposite ends of a pole
which he carried across his neck. One of the pots had a
crack in it, and 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 master's house, the cracked pot arrived only
half full.
For a full
two years this went on daily, with the bearer delivering only one
and a half pots full of water to his house. Of
course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, perfect
to the end for which it was made. But the poor cracked pot
was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it was
able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to do.
After two
years of what it perceived to be a bitter failure, it spoke to the
water bearer one day by the stream. "I am ashamed of
myself, and want to apologize to you." "Why?"
asked the bearer. "What are you ashamed of?"
"I
have been able, for these past two years, to deliver only half my
load because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all
the way back to your house. Because of my flaws, you have
to do all of this work, and you don't get full value from your
efforts," the pot said.
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The water
bearer felt sorry for the old cracked pot, and in his compassion
he said, "As we return to the house, I want you to
notice the beautiful flowers along the path."
Indeed, as they
went up the hill, the old cracked pot took notice of the sun
warming the beautiful wild flowers on the side of the path, and
this cheered it some. But at the end of the trail, it still
felt bad because it had leaked out half its load, and so again he
expressed his feeling to the water bearer.
He replied
by saying, "Did you notice that flowers were only on your
side of your path, but not on the other pot's side? That's
because I have always known about your 'flaw,' and I took advantage
of it. I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and
every day while we walk back from the stream, you've watered
them. For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful
flowers to decorate my table. Without you being
just the way you are, we would not have this beauty to grace our house."
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More
thoughts and ideas on individuality.
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The more we let each
voice
sing out
with
its own
true tone,
the richer
will be
the diversity
of the chant in unison.
Angelus Silesius |
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