Gift of a Teapot

It was a wedding gift
from long ago friends-
a tiny Japanese teapot
imprinted with leaves
from the ancient ginkgo,
a tree that has survived the millennia
when tougher, bigger trees
did not.

In the early years,
I set it on the window sill
above the sink
so that I could daily admire
its simple grace.
But eventually,
it found its way
to a top cabinet shelf,
too eggshell delicate
for the commotion of family life.

There it sat dormant
for many years, safely tucked
between rarely used
bowls and platters.

Children grown,
a few years back
I set it on a sill again.
Still too fragile for use,
but oh, so beautiful.

Yesterday, on a whim
I took it down
for a tea party
with my granddaughters.

Young as they are,
they seemed to understand
instinctively
to protect something
so precious.
A ceremonial peace came over them
as they poured and sipped
ever so tenderly.

It occurs to me that
survival of that teapot
is due to its very vulnerability
and its gift
is that it satisfies
a longing for loveliness.

By Maria Brady-Smith
Photo by Mike Smith