Day in and day out, the vessel serves its creator admirably. Due to its plainness it goes unremarked by visitors to the potter’s shop, yet it is much appreciated by the potter for its usefulness. Many years go by. One day the potter’s kiln catches on fire, and most of his wares are destroyed. Yet as he makes his way among the litter of broken bits of exploded pottery and melted glaze, he finds in the corner, the useful vessel - and when he lifts its lid, he finds its contents are still safely stored inside. It has not been harmed by the fire, for it had been through the fire many times - it was hardened by fire. Its clay was a most durable, earthy kind. It has not cracked, nor chipped, nor has its glaze run. In fact, as the potter studies this vessel, he sees that age and use, fire and rubbing, have only given the object a rare nacre of beauty, such as time and the elements invariably yield to earthy things. It has served its purpose admirably.

The potter empties the pot of its contents, and with his own hands he cleans this vessel with great care and affection. Then he fills it with pure water from his bright-flowing spring; from his field he gathers flowers of many rich and varied colors and arranges them within it, then he gives it a place of honor on his table. And all his household, when they see it, say; "What a lovely thing it is!"