The Potter and the King
By
Valerie L. Egar
Once upon a time,
a very long time ago, a potter lived in a modest hut near the river. She used
clay she found by the edge of the river to make bowls and jugs for oil and water.
She decorated them with paintings of plants and animals. Everyone agreed that her
pottery was beautiful, the finest in the kingdom.
One
spring day, as the potter sat painting pots and singing, a messenger on a white
horse galloped up. He handed the potter a
letter, sealed with wax. She opened it and read, “You are commanded to appear
before the Royal Court to make pottery decorated with paintings of the castle for
Princess Sabra’s wedding.”
“Hmm,”
she thought. “An invitation would be much nicer, and what happened to the word
‘please’?” She looked at the messenger. “Tell His Majesty, thank you very much,
but it’s time to plant my garden. Other potters will be pleased to make pottery
for the princess, I’m sure.”
The
messenger’s eyes widened. “The King
commands you,” he said. “You aren’t allowed to say ‘no’.”
The potter
resigned herself to going. She’d heard the King had beautiful gardens. She
might see peacocks or fine horses. She gathered a supply of clay, paint and
paintbrushes, fresh clothes, hitched her small donkey to a cart and followed
the messenger to the castle.
How
beautiful the castle was from a distance! Set high on a hill overlooking the
valley, its white marble gleamed in the sunlight.
As the potter drove closer,
she saw wide golden gates and beyond them, lush gardens thick with flowers. As
the gates opened, the messenger turned to her,
“You can’t drive that rickety, old cart here! Go around back!” He
galloped in, leaving her to find her own way.
The
potter’s trusty donkey labored up a dirt road that wound its way to the back of
the castle. How different it looked from the front! The windows were boarded, the yard full of rubbish
and broken glass. A shack stood under a dead tree and a rough man pointed the
potter towards it. Damp and musty, thick
with cobwebs, the shack was nothing like her happy cottage on the river.
The
potter woke the next morning and began working. Day after day she labored, and
as each day passed, she grew more homesick. She longed for the song of the
river that slipped past her door, for the whisper of the breeze through the
forest, for the bright flowers that grew in her garden. She missed seeing blue
birds in the
nearby field and dragonflies flying among the water lilies in her pond. Everything around her was ugly and left her heart feeling heavy.
nearby field and dragonflies flying among the water lilies in her pond. Everything around her was ugly and left her heart feeling heavy.
After two months
of steady work, she finished. Hundreds of plates, dozens of bowls and jugs of
all sizes lined the shelves in the castle’s basement. Not once had the King
come by to ask if the potter needed anything. Not once had the princess sent a sweet cake or a pot of hot tea to the potter as she worked.
The King and the
Princess came to the basement to view the dishes. “They’re ugly!” the Princess
screamed. Drab brown and grey, the paintings on each showed the back of the
castle with its broken windows and rubbish filled yard.
The
King was furious. “I ordered paintings of the castle!” he yelled.
“Yes,”
said the potter, “and this is the castle I saw from where I stood.”
The
potter’s words pierced the King’s heart. He was ashamed. He paid the potter
generously for her work, beautified the back of the castle, stopped using the
word ‘command,’ and finally learned to say ‘please.’ Best of all, he threw open
the front gates of the castle to all of his subjects, whether they were riding
a fine horse or driving a donkey cart.
The
spoiled Princess thought her father had gone mad and moved with her Prince to
another Kingdom.
The honest potter returned to her modest cottage and joyfully made pots for the rest of her days, singing as she painted.
The honest potter returned to her modest cottage and joyfully made pots for the rest of her days, singing as she painted.
Like the story? Please leave a comment or 'like' on the Snickertales Facebook page. Follow Snickertales on Facebook and share the story with your Facebook friends.We have over 40,000 followers on Facebook and are glad that you are among them!!
Copyright 2017 by Valerie L. Egar. May not be copied or reproduced without permission from the author.
Published March 5, 2015 in Journal Tribune Sunday (Biddeford, ME).
No comments:
Post a Comment