There was a couple who used to go to England to shop in the beautiful stores.
This was their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary.
They both liked antiques and pottery and especially teacups.

One day in this beautiful shop they saw a beautiful teacup.
They said “ May we see that ?
We’ve never seen one quite so beautiful.”
As the lady handed it to them, suddenly the teacup spoke.

“ You don’t understand,” it said.
“ I haven’t always been a teacup. "

There was a time when I was red and I was clay.
My master took me and rolled me and patted me over and over and I yelled out, let me alone,’ but he only smiled, ‘ Not yet.’

“ Then I was placed on a spinning wheel,” the teacup said, “ And suddenly I was spun around and around and around.
‘ Stop it !
I’m getting dizzy' !
I screamed.
But the master only nodded and said, ‘ Not yet.’

Then he put me in the oven. I never felt such heat.
I wondered why he wanted to burn me, and I yelled, and I knocked at the door.
I could see him through the opening and I could read his lips as he shook his head, ‘ Not yet.’

“ Finally the door opened, he put me on the shelf, and I began to cool. "
‘ There, that’s better,’ I said.
And he brushed and painted me all over.
The fumes were horrible.
I thought I would gag.
‘ Stop it, stop it ' !
I cried.
He only nodded, ‘ Not yet.’

“ Then suddenly he put me back into the oven, not like the first one.
This was twice as hot and I knew I would suffocate.
I begged.
I pleaded.
I screamed.
I cried.
All the time I could see him through the opening nodding his head, saying, ‘ Not yet.’

“ Then I knew there wasn’t any hope.
I would never make it.
I was ready to give up.
But the door opened and he took me out and placed me on the shelf.
One hour later he handed me a mirror and said, ‘ Look at yourself.’
And I did. I said, ‘ That’s not me; that couldn’t be me.
It’s beautiful. I’m beautiful.’

‘ I want you to remember, then,’ he said, ‘ I know it hurt to be rolled and patted, but if I just left you, you’d have dried up.
I know it made you dizzy to spin around on the wheel, but if I had stopped, you would have crumbled.
I know it hurt and it was hot and disagreeable in the oven, but if I hadn’t put you there, you would have cracked.
I know the fumes were bad when I brushed and painted you all over, but if I hadn’t done that, you never would have hardened.
You would not have had any color in your life, and if I hadn’t put you back in that second oven, you wouldn’t survive for very long because the hardness would not have held.
Now you are a finished product.
' You are what I had in mind when I first began with you.’







Love Ya, ~Barbara