This is a story about two boys who loved history, but hated tours , In fact , they have managed to make the word tour into two very long syllables. “Daddy,” they moan pitifully, ” are we going on a toooooooo-ur?” When their dad assured them that they were going to see an early-American town, not just costumed ladies telling about old buildings, they agreed .Cautiously
On reaching the planned spot, they saw the peoples going on with their own regular job, The craftsmen made the place come alive. The blacksmith worked his magic with fire and iron. The miller showed them how a water wheel and some wheat equals flour. And the potter made them forget any leftover impressions of a “toooooooo-ur.” His skill was almost hypnotic. He sat at his wheel, rhythmically turning the shaft with his feet. In a nearby corner were shapeless, seemingly worthless gray blobs of clay. One of those former blobs was now the focus of all their attention. With practiced fingers the potter was working that clay upwards into a smooth and shapely vase.
The potter’s shack was cramped, too small for all the people crowded in to watch on that hot day. Eventually, the crowd left. But these two boys wanted to stay. They had noticed two shelves of finished vases, one on either side of the potter. With childlike innocence one of the boys reached out to touch. “Careful!” the craftsmen exclaimed. “Please don’t touch the pottery on that shelf. You’ll ruin it. “Then he surprised them when he said, “Why don’t you touch the ones on the other shelf?” Needless to say, they were curious why some vases could be touched and not others.
Glancing at the “do-not-touch” shelf, he explained, ” These haven’t been fired yet. ” The potter told them that , there was more to making masterpieces than just making the blobs into beautiful shapes. If he stopped at that point, they would quickly be marred and misshapen. Without the fire, the potter’s work is still beautiful, but too fragile.
The other vases could be touched because they had twice been baked in his kiln at temperatures of more than 2000 degrees. “The fire makes the clay firm and strong,” finally the potter concluded. ” “Fire makes the beauty last.” That was the trigger.
The Potter was talking to them about a fire that increases the value of something precious. Having spent most of his adult years in an oven-a pressure cooker, to be exact- He knew about Fire. Much of it could be traced to his overheated schedule and over committed lifestyle. That heat was his own fault. Further , the potter clarified ,But there is another fire that comes not from me but from the Master Potter inside me. There is, to be sure , a heat that burns, and another heat that beautifies.
Now, comparing the Pot to our life , and the Potter to our circumstances , we should be able to identify the fire which we are dealing with , the fire from outside , or the fire from within , The outside fire may burn , but the fire from inside us will beautify our life. Both are needed for our life .