Bedtime Stories for the Faithful

The Teapot Dragon

 Once a little while ago, there lived a poor young man. He did not have much money, but after a long day's work, the man had enough to go to the market. He was in search of a special gift.

He searched curio shops, jewelry stands, and bakeries. But everywhere, he could not afford the cheapest item. When he just about gave up hope, he heard a noise from a pottery shop.

"You blasted thing! Naughty creature! Wretched morsel!" The shouts were amidst a few crashes and clatters.

The man rushed in and maneuvered through the aisles of pots and cookware. He found that the noise was coming from the backroom. He couldn't see much other than shadows on the wall squabbling.

"Excuse me," the man said and the racket ceased. Soon a short old man came stomping out and smiled.

"Can I help you with something?" he kindly asked.

"I heard some yelling," the man told him. "Is everything alright?"

"Oh yes, yes, just a little pest problem," he said, eyeing the backroom. "Is there anything I can help you find?"

The man took a gander at the store. "Do you have anything I can use as a present for someone? Something special?"

"What exactly are you looking for?" the old man asked. "Who are you shopping for?"

"My son," the man said. "He's had trouble adjusting to living with my mother, so I wanted something that would bring the two of them together."

"Ah," the old man thought. "Well, I know of no greater joy than sharing a cup of tea with loved ones. I know just the thing." The old man retreated into the backroom. There was a short arousal of noises before he returned with a small, round and purple teapot. "It is a yixing teapot, made of yixing clay."

"Does it cost much?" the man asked. "I'm afraid I don't have a lot of money."

The old man walked up to him with a smile. He raised the teapot and said, "For you, I require no payment. Just a simple 'please' will suffice."

"Oh no, I couldn't," the young gentleman said. "You deserve something."

The old fellow grinned, grabbed his hands and put the teapot in his possession. "It costs me nothing to give this to you."

"Thank you," the father awed. "Please, you must have dinner at my home. It's the least I could do."

"Keep the teapot for a week, and I'll come," the old man laughed.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," the man expressed much gratitude.

"Just sign this receipt, young man," the old fellow instructed at the counter.

"Call me, Cheung," the father smiled and left after signing his name and address for the old man. With the bit of change he had saved, he purchased paper to decorate the teapot with. Then he brought it home.

His home was in a crowded bit of town. Many houses were crammed in the tiny streets. He went inside his one room home and awed at his purchase tied up with a bite of string. Cheung set it on the table and got started with dinner. His son and mother were not yet home, but they would return soon.

"Wo de ma ya! Bai!" Cheung's mother was ranting as she entered the house. "You are filthy. Why don't you clean up?"

Cheung's son, Bai, was covered in dirt. "It's just a little dirt. It won't hurt anyone."

"Suppose that's what you get for tearing up the park," his grandmother barked, already washing her hands.

Cheung set the stew pot on the table, and Bai sat in his chair, still covered in dirt. His grandmother shot him stern looks until Bai reluctantly rolled his eyes and cleaned up.