There once was a small beautifully painted teacup. It had bright gold and natural colors and was as fragile as a flower. It was perfect. Of course, it wasn't just there. It had a beginning, like all of us do.
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Clay. That's all I'll ever amount to. Just a mound of mud in the earth that will have no purpose. What? The ground is shifting around me. Look up. Is that... light? I've never seen light before. Who is that? It's a man. He looks kind and gentle. Wait. He's honding me in his warm hands, pulling out of the ground. What does he want with me?
He's taking me away, to what seems to be a house. He has a collection of pottery. I could never become as elegent and charming as those teapots or the sugar bowls. They have a porpose; I don't. Ow! He's pushing and kneading me. I can't survive the pain!
"Strength comes within, but everything should have a soft heart." he spoke finally. I can see love in his eyes as he sets me on a small circular table. Now he's picking at me; he's pulling out giant clumps of dirt and rocks. Why is he taking away from me? This is who I am.
"To be perfect, imperfections must be withdrawn from you." He is now spinning the table. Water is all over me now. Is he shaping me? He is! No! I was fine the way I was. I don't like change!
"To give you your purpose, you need to be able to fulfill it." After turnning for a while, he placed me on a board and pushed my into a metal box. He shut the door. It's getting hot. I see red everywhere and am starting to feel weak. Where is he? Why would he put me in here? Has he abandon me?
"I will never leave you, nor forget you, for you are my pride and joy." The door was opened and cool air circled me as I was taken off the board. I feel different; I am frail and thin. What else does he want to put me through? I am mad at him now. I have been changed too much to be able to make the most of this situation. He is grabbing paints now, and a brush. He is painting me. This is taking a while. Must it take so long?
"Patience can lead to beauty, within and on the outside." Sometime later, he was done. He smiled at me. Pride shown throughout him. Why is pleased with me? I am only a pile of clay he found in the soil.
"Once you were something no one could use." He gingerly picked me up and put me with the teapots and sugar bowls. "Now you are a work of art. I have made you what you are, but you are the one who did all the hard work."
I am beautiful now. He has given me a porpose, a desire in life now. I help others. I show more clumps of clay that they will once be part of our family. We all have to go through hard times, but as long as we have our potter, he won't let us down.
