This is a picture of my morning teapot and the one mug remaining.
That evening I found the pot but found that the handle had been broken and there was a large enough crack in it to mean that it would never properly hold tea again, let alone any other liquid. I am still grieving. I managed to carry this pot back and forth to boarding school ever term for three years, to Europe and back, and have had it through college, seminary and now five years of marriage.
Here is the sensible pot I bought for 12 dollars to replace it.
6 comments:
With all that world travel, your teapot lived a good life. I think you should be kind to it and use it in new creative ways -- wouldn't it be nice to plant flowers in your teapot and set it on the window ledge so it can oversee morning tea in the new pot?
That was a lovely tea set, and I should know, since when I first bought it there were two cups. And when I sent it to school with you, one may already have gone the way of all the world. Who knows. But one thing I am slowly learning is that we aren't in an eternal world of limited good. The incredible good news -- and for which I am a Christian -- THERE'S MORE WHERE THAT CAME FROM. Or something better. I'll start looking.
I believe the teapot is more important to you than most people know. Your growing-up-home moved a lot, but wherever your mother placed her teapot, there was home.
Uncle Jim from the Far North
Hello Uncle Jim,
it is always the symbolism of the thing that makes it important, which is why I have a cupboard full of broken glass that I can't bring myself to throw away. Some day I'll have to, but in the meantime every now and then I hopen it up and look at everything and feel sad. :)
I understand how you feel, even more after your uncle's explanation, but I like that new pot!
I have definitely had tea from that teapot. I will miss it.
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