The Cracked Pot (We Are Imperfect)

He got up from his cot, and went to lay alongside his grandfather. Dev made way for him, but did not speak.

He silently nuzzled into his grandfather, feeling the familiar loving warmth from the old man.

“I am flawed,” he whispered silently, his body shaking with the force of emotion now breaking loose.

Tears rolled off his cheeks and were soaked up hungrily by his grandfather’s cotton shirt.

Love cleanses, Dev knew, and the boy had to be taught a lesson to last him a lifetime.

Catharsis is never painless. But the earlier the treatment could be administered, the earlier the recovery could begin.

When the boy’s violently racking body had finally settled down into infrequent spasms, Dev turned around towards him.

His warm compassionate hand reached across to smooth his grandson’s hair.

“A water bearer,” he said, “had two large pots. Each hung on the ends of a pole which he carried across his neck, as he walked a long walk from the stream to his house daily.”

“One of the pots had a crack in it. So, each day the cracked pot arrived home only half full. The other pot was perfect, and always delivered a full portion of water.”

“For a very long time, this went on daily, with the bearer delivering only one and a half pots full of water to his house.”

“Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, perfect for which it was made. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfections, and miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had been designed to do.”

“After years of shame, and guilt, and what it perceived to be a bitter failure, the cracked pot finally mustered the courage to confess his shortcomings to the water bearer.”

“I am ashamed of myself, it said, and I want to apologize to you. I have been able to deliver only half my load because a crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your house.”

“Did you notice,” the bearer replied, “that there were flowers only on your side of the path, but not on the perfect pot’s side?”

“I have always known about your flaw. So, I planted flower seeds on your side of the path. And every day, while we walked back to the house from the stream, you’ve watered them for me.”

“For years, I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate my home. Without you being just the way you are, there would not be this beauty to grace my house!”

“The moral of the story is that we all have our faults. Nobody is perfect! Each of us has our own unique flaws. We’re all cracked pots, but can still be useful in our own way.”

“Succeeding despite our imperfections leads to a fulfilled life. This is what can bring out greatness in us. For our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.”

“It’s the cracks, the faults, the flaws we all have, that make our lives together so very interesting and rewarding. Yep, we’ve just got to take each person for who they are, and look for the good in them.”

“Strength lies in weakness?” Rosh was trying to understand. “You’re not just giving hope to a loser to make him feel good about himself?”

“No,” answered Dev, “a good builder works with all kinds of materials. Wood and metal have different strengths and weaknesses. Clay and cement are different. Yet, there is a place for all of them when one is creating a home.”

“Everything serves a purpose. Even our weaknesses and imperfections. What one can do, the other can’t. So, a good tradesman doesn’t blame his tools. He just learns to make the best use of whatever he’s got.”

‘Indeed!’ thought Rosh, as he contemplated the story. ‘Without the water-bearer’s compassion, his observation of the pot’s weakness, and without his putting it to good use, he wouldn’t be collecting flowers at all!’

‘But if he hadn’t had the foresight and intelligence to plant flower seeds on the path, the cracked pot would have still watered something. What? Weeds, perhaps?’

‘These could still have benefitted insects and our herbivore friends. So, weakness could still turn out to be strength really. Blessings to all of us crackpots! But how do I learn to see things that way?’

‘Would I rather be a perfect pot,’ Rosh asked himself, unaware that his grandfather beside him was already fast asleep and snoring heavily, ‘or a cracked pot who strives to become useful?’

‘Neither!’ he concluded. ‘The pots are what they are. They don’t have a choice in the matter. I am who I am – perfect or flawed – and I have no choice in the matter of my being.’

‘But I can still choose to become. I would like to become the water bearer, the one who knew how to make even a cracked pot lead a full, useful life.’

‘A compassionate, caring person. Smart! Not wasting anything. Not my talents, not my imperfections. Not even a drop of water!”’

Written by Rajeev Wadhwa

The Cracked Pot (We Are Imperfect)


Be Grateful

Be Grateful

Life has really showed every one of us different things, different lessons at different phases. There are days we can’t stop tearing and other days we find it hard to hold back the smiles. There are days when all we ask are questions and there are other days when it seems we have all the answers. There are days we can’t stop complaining because we feel so lost and unfulfilled and other days we see things beyond our comprehension and then we can’t stop giving thanks. However, if we are diligent and observant, we will realize that life won’t always be perfect but a grateful heart will thrive even in the mist of imperfections.


Jide was a young man born in the western part of Nigeria, he was very intelligent and hardworking. He had always dreamed of becoming a medical doctor and he thought his dreams had come true when he passed his school certificate exams in flying colours. His parents were so proud of him, when he cleared all other exams that would lead him to study medicine but to everyone’s surprise Jide was not offered medicine at his choice University.  Instead of Medicine, he was offered Biochemistry. His father did all he could, he made lots of phone calls to his friends who he thought could help but all to no avail. Then his father encouraged him to go for the course in the hope that he would cross over to medicine in his second year.

Jide went in good faith and did all he could, he studied so hard but unfortunately for him (so he thought), he was not allowed to cross to medicine. He hated life so much so, that he questioned the existence of God. However, his parents were able encouraged him to trust in God’s purpose for his life and told him to be grateful for what he has. Jide felt they were only trying to cheer him up and rather than being grateful he was hateful. Things got worse for him,  he had carryovers in few compulsory courses and this effectively killed any hope he had of crossing to study Medicine.


He decided to share the bad news with his parents hoping they would console him as usual but he was surprised when his father called him ‘good for nothing’ and a failure. He felt like dying, he just could not understand how his loving parents would suddenly change. He concluded that instant that if there is a God, then that God must really hate him. He then made up his mind that he was on his own and has to give it all he has got if he wants to make head way in life.

By his fourth year in the university, he was done with his carryovers and he was much better in his academics.  One day, he decided to visit his close friend (the smartest of them back in secondary school days) who was studying medicine. When he got to his hostel, he met him crying, he inquired what the issue was, his friend told him, he had failed his Incourse exams and he has been dropped to Biochemistry and was to now start again from year two. Furthermore, he does not know how to tell his parents and his friend concluded by saying,“ I wish  I had your life, I wish I was also given biochemistry from the beginning”. These words shook Jide to the spine.


That second, Jide realized how ungrateful he has been. He  realized his mess was really a blessing. He finally understood that because God knows our inadequacies he sometimes take us through the wilderness so that we can discover the Joshua and Caleb in us. Jide could only imagine what his friend was going through and now in his heart he was grateful for what he has. He now saw that he wasn’t really prepared for the challenges of studying medicine, he was only eager to study the course because he wanted to measure up to his friend and satisfy the ego of his parents. Jide learned the real lesson of life, that if one appreciates what one has, one would eventually have what one desires.

A lot of us wake up in the morning wishing we had better lives, better relationship, better friends even better parents but the funny thing is there are lots people who look at us and pray and wish they had a life like ours. Most people are not satisfied and this won’t likely change till eternity comes. It is not all about the present pain, tribulations or challenges but there is a need to be grateful for the little things we have.


“A man who appreciates little things will definitely earn bigger things -Onome”

Walking on the street every day I see a lot of homeless people, I see kids who have no hope of becoming something great tomorrow, I see kids who are hungry but yet they still move on with their lives hoping that maybe someday a miracle will happen, these people have not given up on life, and I believe you and I who have almost everything should learn from them. Therefore, I charge you to look beyond the pains, the trauma and the disappointments, and choose to focus on the positives while being grateful for every little thing you have; the air we breathe, the alarm that wakes us, the family we have, the friends that keeps us company, the life that gives us hope and the miracles we see everyday. 


“When you are grateful, fear disappears and abundance appears – Tony Robbins”

The fact that we are breathing is a blessing; there is always something for everyone to be grateful for and in faith we should be thankful for things that we do not have yet. For if we choose the path of gratitude the rest of our life will be testimonies to God’s blessings.

By Omodara Oluwabunmi Onome

“Coat Of Many Colors”

Right from the time I understood that to me music has never been about the beat but the lyrics, Dolly had been one of my most loved musician.  Of all her songs “Coat Of Many Colors” stood out for me because it taught me contentment, appreciation and self-belief.

I will like to share this with you and to get you inspired!

“Coat Of Many Colors”

Back through the years
I go wonderin’ once again
Back to the seasons of my youth
I recall a box of rags that someone gave us
And how my momma put the rags to use
There were rags of many colors
Every piece was small
And I didn’t have a coat
And it was way down in the fog
Momma sewed the rags together
Sewin’ every piece with love
She made my coat of many colors
That I was so proud of
As she sewed, she told a story
From the bible, she had read
About a coat of many colors
Joseph wore and then she said
Perhaps this coat will bring you
Good luck and happiness
And I just couldn’t wait to wear it
And momma blessed it with a kiss

My coat of many colors
That my momma made for me
Made only from rags
But I wore it so proudly
Although we had no money
I was rich as I could be
In my coat of many colors
My momma made for me


So with patches on my britches
Holes in both my shoes
In my coat of many colors
I hurried off to school
Just to find the others laughing
And making fun of me
In my coat of many colors
My momma made for me

And oh I couldn’t understand it
For I felt I was rich
And I told them of the love
My momma sewed in every stitch
And I told ’em all the story
Momma told me while she sewed
And how my coat of many colors
Was worth more than all their clothes

But they didn’t understand it
And I tried to make them see
That one is only poor
Only if they choose to be
Now I know we had no money
But I was rich as I could be
In my coat of many colors
My momma made for me
Made just for me