I'm a Little Teapot

           

In a little cottage of little consequence, in a little town of little gardens, a little teapot sat front and center. This particular teapot, the Teapot, was particularly excited because today, this insignificant Tuesday in April, was her Tea Day. The Teapot had been waiting for this day for months (in reality, it had only been a week or two, but you know teapots, they're very dramatic). The Teapot had checked her reflection in the silver teapot's belly, making sure she was free of any new spots or chips, and scooted past the oldest teapot to sit in the most precious spot amongst all the teapots: front and center. The Teapot had watched with excitement all morning as the Lady, as all the teapots called her, cleaned the little kitchen and the little living room, and it wasn't long before the teapots realized the Lady was having a guest over for tea! The Teapot nearly vibrated with excitement.

            "What an honor!" she breathed. "I'm to be used for company!"

            The other teapots all groaned softly. The Teapot was going to be insufferable for days after this Tea Time, but it's nothing unusual. Teapots, especially teapots in families such as the Lady's where there are more than a few but less than a lot, are prone to be insufferable. Sometimes, one teapot is favored above the others. And other times, one teapot is forgotten behind boxes and tins of tea, hidden from sight until one day, it emerges from the dust and debris. The Teapot did not want to slip into obscurity, and therefore was determined to keep the tea hot throughout today's tea.

            "I've never been used for company," the Teapot pouted. "Most of you have. It's about time I am used."

            A knock on the door silenced everyone in the little cottage. The Lady checked herself in the mirror before stepping out to the little garden with the Guest and shut the door. The clock above the window read quarter past three. This annoyed the Teapot. Tea started at three, so why were the Lady and the Guest in the garden? With a flutter of excitement, the Teapot wondered if they were to take tea in the garden. But why was there classical music playing from the speaker and scones set smartly on the little round dining table? The Lady hadn't set the garden table with the white table cloth and the kettle wasn't warming on the stove.

            Before her musings could go very far, the collected teapots realized raised voices were coming from the garden. It is always odd to hear angry voices coming from amongst the tulips, hyacinths, and bluebells. All shifted and shuffled, vying for the best view out of the kitchen window. The Teapot, of course, had the best view, but in her thirst for gossip and all it entailed, she moved to the very edge (to be honest, she was over the edge, balanced quite precariously) and could clearly see the Lady and the Guest shouting at one another in quite the heated debate. However, as suddenly as the argument began, it ended. The pair stared at each other for a moment before the Guest shook his head and stormed off through the garden gate and the Lady banged back into the house, slamming the door behind her.

            It all happened very quickly. The Teapot, perched so precariously on the edge of the shelf, teetered, tipped, then tumbled. There was a collective gasp from the teapots on the shelf as the Teapot shattered on the floor and silence reigned. The Teapot couldn't believe it. Her big day was over. Her life was over. The Teapot knew she'd be thrown away, to be forever alone at the dump, slowly chipping and grinding away to nothing, to dust. The other teapots watched and whispered, gossip traveling quickly to those at the back, all of them tittering about how quickly one could fall from grace by being nosey and boasting about being used for company. The Teapot knew they were right and was embarrassed. She wished the Lady would just come back, sweep her up, and toss her in the bin.

            When the Lady returned, her eyes and nose were red and she carried a handkerchief embroidered with flowers. She didn't notice the Teapot at first, but when she did, she gasped and knelt on the floor next to the shards of porcelain.

            "Oh, what have I done?" The Lady whispered before carefully placing the Teapot's shards in her handkerchief. "Such a beautiful teapot ruined because I was angry."

            The Lady cautiously set the bundle on the table before hurriedly leaving the kitchen, disappearing into the depths of the cottage. She returned a few moments later, carrying a bottle of glue, and set to work carefully putting the pieces of the Teapot back together. It was a slow process, and the Teapot was confused. Why would the Lady take time to glue her back together? The Teapot would never be able to hold boiling tea or pour as beautifully as she once had. The Teapot knew she would be placed on the shelf, forgotten behind the old tins and boxes of tea, and the Teapot knew she would be thrown away one day when the Lady cleaned off her shelf and discovered her, a useless teapot. The Lady should just throw me away now and not waste all this glue, thought the Teapot. The Lady carefully set the Teapot down to dry, sniffling slightly as she left the room.

            For the next few days, life went on around the Teapot. The Lady checked the Teapot each morning, patting it gently before going about her day. Tea was always somber with only the Lady's mug and a small array of scones and sandwiches, and the Guest still hadn't returned. On the third day, however, the Lady patted the Teapot and smiled before going out to the garden. The teapots on the shelf whispered and murmured to themselves, watching the Lady. The Teapot didn't dare to shift or move, fearing her glued seams would burst, so she waited, trying to listen to the conversation on the shelf without any luck. When the Lady returned, she carried a small armful of flowers and set them next to the Teapot. The Lady gingerly picked up the Teapot and took the Teapot to the sink and filled her with water. The Teapot was shocked. Wouldn't she fall apart again? She couldn't handle falling to pieces again. But when the Lady set the Teapot back on the table, she slid the bouquet of tulips, hyacinths, and bluebells into the Teapot.

            "You're still useful," the Lady said quietly, arranging the bouquet gently. "I would feel so guilty to throw any of my teapots away. Besides, you're too pretty to simply throw away."

            The Teapot was stunned. She watched as the Lady went about her daily business, feeling a sense of happiness like she'd never felt before suffuse her little spout and her thick handle. She was still useful despite not doing what she'd been designed to do. The Teapot promised herself she would do her best to keep these flowers for as long as they would last.

            The Teapot and the Lady learned that day that once you've been broken, you can be fixed and made better. Life may not go in the direction you'd hoped, but that doesn't mean it's a bad direction. You see, ladies, like teapots, are sometimes very dramatic.