Once there lived a man. A practical man with a lovely family of four. This man loved his home spot clean and magazine ready. Everything in its proper place.
Not a dust bunny in site or a frame out of place. He loved to entertain and show off his best.
One day, the man bought a set of beautiful blue and white antique china dishes. Imported straight from the palaces of Japan the merchant said while sharing the thousand dollar sale tag.
The dishes were indeed exquisite. Creamy white porcelain etched with Egyptian blue prairie scenes and swirling flowers. The set contained everything from delicate tea cups and saucers to lovely gravy bowels and serving platters.
A set turning simple peasant grits and cornbread into a beautiful meal fit for a king.
But what a fuss his family made over the plates. His wife marveled at the lovely lines, his children ecstatic to hold each delicate cup, and his parents disgruntled at such a price.
The man didn’t care. He only thought of the praises and gasps his neighbors and guests would make when they came for dinner parties.
For months and months the china stayed carefully in its place inside the cabinets. His family begged and begged to take out the white and blue dishes to use for family meals and tea time.
Each time the man said no. “Only for special occasions!” he exclaimed.
Why in the world would he let his messy, broken family touch his marvelous dishes, only to use for the plainest, boring meals?
Time went on and the dishes made their appearance only once or twice in the year. Of course only the elite held their precious porcelain designs. His family had yet to drink tea from the little cups and eat cake from their little saucers.
One day, disaster stroke, an earthquake of great proportions hit. God bless no one lost their homes or lives. But the man lost his greatest possession. Every single delicate china dish fell and broke among the chaos. Not a single one survived.
What a shame for such beauty, only to fall to their dooms. Such a waste.