Saturday, August 19, 2006

I remember becoming really depressed when I was in Secondary 4, barely 2 and a half years ago. That was like around july, all the way till the O Levels. You know, stressed out and all cos of many many things that happen during your mid teen years.

So, I was just flipping through my Student's Handbook then, and found something that kept me going. It's a story called The Cracked Pot. I'll share it with you here. Kinda lengthy. So don't read it if you don't want to.

A water bearer in India served his master by toting water from the stream to his master's home. He carried the water in two pots that hung on either end of a pole balanced across his shoulders.

One of the pots had a crack in it, hence, the cracked pot always arrived at the master's house only half full. For two years, this went on. Everyday the water bearer delivered one full and one half full measures of water to the master. The full pot was naturally happy, proud of its service, perfect to the end for which it had been made. The cracked pot was feeling, on the contrary, very inferior. It was ashamed of its imperfection and miserable that it was only able to accomplish half of what it was made to do.

After an eternity of what it perceived to be better failure, the cracked pot spoke to the water bearer. "I'm so ashamed of myself." "I want to apologise to you..."

"Why?" asked the water bearer.

"For the past 2 years, this crack on my side has let water leak out all the way to the master's house, and i have been unable to deliver but half my load," said the pot. "You do the work carrying me from the stream to our master's house each day but because of my defect, you don't get full value from your effort," sighed the anguished pot.

Kindly, the water bearer told the distressed pot. "As we return to the house today, do notice the lovely flowers along the way."

As the trio went up the hill, the cracked pot noticed the winsome flowers - the sun glistering off their bright faces, the breeze bending their heads. But still, at the end of the trail, the faulty pot felt bad cos it had again leaked out half its load, and again it apologised to the bearer for its failure.

But the bearer said to the pot, "Did you notice that the flowers were only on your side of the path? Because I have always know about yout 'flaw',I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and everyday while we wind our way back from the stream, you have watered them. And I am thus able to pick these beautiful flowers to adorn our master's table. Were you not just the way you are, the master would not have such beauty in his house."

A simple story all in all, but quite inspiring for me whenever I feel inferior. It's interesting to see what I used to scribble in my little CCHSM Student's Handbook. Little quotes here and there, some remarks of sadness, happiness and whatnots. Oh well. Such is the beauty found in tangible traces of memory.

Okay so it's practical assessment on monday, graduation on friday, and I'll be posted out(hopefully) to either one of the bands already!

Looking forward to wearing leather shoes everymorning. Haha!