I
was out in my garden this morning, enjoying the coolness in the air before the
day heats up and the colors and shadows fade. I took a picture of my favorite
cracked pot. Here is an Indian parable to accompany it:
The Cracked Pot
A water bearer in India had two
large pots. He hung each on the on ends of a pole he carried across the back of
his neck. One had a crack in it, while the other was perfect—always delivering
a full portion of water at the end of the long walk from the stream to the
master’s house. But the cracked pot arrived half full, the rest of the water having
leaked out on the way.
Of course, the perfect pot was proud
of its accomplishment and saw itself as perfectly suited for the purpose for
which it was made. But the cracked pot was ashamed of its imperfection and
miserable that it was only able to accomplish half of what it had been made to
do.
One day, after two years of what it
perceived as bitter failure, the cracked pot spoke to the water bearer by the
stream. “I am ashamed of myself and I want to apologize to you.”
“Why?” asked the bearer. “What are
you ashamed of?”
“For the past two years, I have been
able to deliver only half my load because this crack in my side causes water to
leak out on the way back to your master’s house. Because of my flaws you have
to work without getting the full value of your efforts,” the pot said.
The water bearer felt sorry for the
old cracked pot. “As we return to the master’s house, I want you to
notice the beautiful flowers along the side of the path.”
As they went up the hill, the old
cracked pot took special notice of the sun warmed wildflowers along the path
and felt cheered. But at the end of the trail, the pot once again felt bad because
it had leaked out half its load, and again it apologized for its
failure.
The bearer said to the pot, “Did you
notice that there were flowers only on your side of the path and not on the
other pot’s side?”
The cracked pot pondered this.
“That’s because I knew about your
flaw and 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 me.
For two years I have picked these beautiful flowers to decorate my
master’s table. If you were not just the way you are, he would not have such
beauty to grace his house.
Moral: We can all be useful, despite
our perceived defects. Find your defect and make it a strength.
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