The Broken Pot

                Once upon a time, there was a pot. To any normal person, it wouldn’t look like a special pot. But, oh, it was. This pot was one of a kind because a man had crafted it as a gift to bride. It held a sentimental value to the couple.

                After many years, this couple got themselves a maid to take care of the house. She would dust the old book shelves, vacuum the floors, and of course, cook dinners for the couple and clean the dishes afterwards.

                Well, this maid was not very content with what she was being paid, so she confronted the husband on this matter. “Have I not given you everything that you have?” was the husband’s reply. “I have given you two daily meals, the clothes on your back, and a roof over your head. On top of that I pay you a decent salary for anything else that you require. What exactly more do you need?”

                “I- I just would like more. I wish that I do not have to explain why.”

                “Well, it’s a good thing that I’m not a genie then. I will give you a raise when you give a good reason as to why I should. I’m off to a town meeting. My wife should be home soon. Good day.” He then left, leaving the maid quite hot with embarrassment and anger.

                The maid began washing the dishes. The hot, soapy water only adding to her flames. She began mumbling angry words and curses to the husband when she picked up the pot. The maid screamed in frustration and crashed the pot to the ground, the pieces shattering across the floor.

                Realizing that the consequences of her actions was that she would be fired, her anger turned to fear. She quickly grabbed a broom and swept the shattered pieces under the cabinet (now, this was a cabinet that was movable much like a dresser). She continued washing the dishes being careful with each one and carried with her the rest of the day feelings of anxiety. Would the couple notice that their favorite pot was missing?

                Well, came home first just as the husband had said she would. “Good day, Mistress,” the maid greeted her, trying to keep her voice steady.

                “Good day,” the wife replied. “Is something wrong?” she asked, “You look shaken up.”

                “Nothing, Mad’am.”

                “It’s okay. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”

                Realizing that the wife wasn’t going to back down, the maid said, “I asked for a pay raise from your husband, and it didn’t go too well.”

                The wife smiled. “Well, if you need money, you can have a share of what my husband gives me. I hardly ever use it.”

                “Thank you, Mad’am, but with all due respect, I’m not a charity.”

                “Understandable.”

                Several days past with the maid not saying much to the couple, but continued to get flashes of anxiety every time the couple looked in the cabinet for dishware.

                Then one day, “Honey!” the wife yelled out. The husband ran as quickly as he could into the room.

                “What is it?”

                “I can’t find my wedding ring.”

                So, the couple looked for the ring all around the house. The maid volunteered to help look, but mostly so that she could say she had looked under the cabinet so that the couple wouldn’t look there.

                “Are you sure it didn’t go under the cabinet?” the wife asked, “I quite remember that the last time I had my ring, it was to get some dishes out.”

                Before the maid could stop her, she moved the cabinet out of the way, and revealed the broken pot. Sitting inside one of the broken pieces was the missing ring, for the maid had not actually looked under the cabinet.

                Saddened with shame at the sight of the broken pot and the stares of the couple, the maid whispered, “I’ll go get my things.”

                As the maid went upstairs, the wife turned to her husband said, “Are you just going to let her go?”

                “Why not? She seems eager to leave, and quite deserves too,” the husband replied.

                “But can’t you please forgive her? It is true that she has wronged us, but when we first met, I had wronged you, but you forgave me and gave me everything that I currently have.”

                The maid came back with her things in her hands. The husband turned to her and said, “Put your things back. You are not going anywhere. My wife has pleaded with me to forgive you, and so I shall, if you are willing to stay.”

                With relief, the maid replied, “Of course! Of course, I’ll stay. Thank you. Thank you very much, the both of you!”

                Now, this would be quite the happy ending now wouldn’t it? But what about the pot? What happens to it?

                “Should we throw this one away and I will make a new one?” the husband asked his wife.

                “No, I liked this one. We can fix it up.”

                “When I am out in town tomorrow I will go back to the place where I originally made this one, and make some glue to piece it back together. In the meantime, start piecing it together to see if any pieces are missing.”

                So, this is what they did. The next day, the husband came home saying, “I have the glue.” But he saw his wife staring at the pot.

                “There are three pieces missing.”

                “We’ve looked all over the house for them,” the maid said, “They’re just gone.”

                With a smile on the husband’s face, he said to his wife, “They are not missing. You just haven’t found them yet.”

                “Do you know where they are?”

                “Of course I do. But it is your task to find them.”

                The wife continued searching for the pieces almost daily, but she eventually forgot about the project. Her husband would remind her, and off she would go again trying to find them. She implored that her maid keep an eye out for them, but I’m afraid the maid grew a bit lazy in searching for them.

                Half a year later, the wife came up to her husband in tears. “Why are you playing this cruel game? If you know where the missing pieces are, just tell me! Do not let this go on longer.”

                “My dear,” the husband looked at her with pitying eyes, “this is not so much about finding the pieces as learning something important.”

                Many days later, when the husband came home, the wife asked, “Husband, may you please tell me where the missing pieces are today?”

                With a wide smile on the husband’s face, he said, “Yes. They are inside the satchel that I keep with me.”

                With joy on the wife’s face, she leapt up and the husband handed the pieces to her. She happily brought them over to the rest of the pot, and got the glue out. Her husband gently stopped her. “It is my job to glue the pieces together.”

                Glue it together, he did. In fact, it was the glue that turned the previously only sentimentally valued pot into something divine. The wife watched as her husband beautifully, and artistically made the pot whole once again.

                The wife then immediately put the pot to work. She left to the well to gather some water for that day.