Characters
By Jim Getz
The first time I taught my son to make each clay pot unique by inscribing characters upon it with a wooden stylus, was in our home.
“Father,” my son marveled, “why do your pots change appearance after you inscribe with your stylus, but mine do not?”
“Let us go to the marketplace,” I said.
Soon, my son complained, there were too many pots to inscribe. None changed with his wooden stylus. “Father, I want to be just like you! I want my pots to change!”
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He no longer marveled; he saw only the flaws. Flawed pots were piling up in the marketplace. He threw down his stylus.
“Do not watch my stylus as I inscribe characters,” I said. “Watch my appearance.”
My son saw in my appearance the love of clay pots, the love of inscribing characters.
I reached for a small clay pot. “This pot is yours,” I said. “I inscribed your characters the day you were born. Look inside.”
My son saw, inside his small clay pot, his unique appearance that did not change. He marveled as he looked inside all the other newly inscribed pots. Their insides had not changed.
“Now go, inscribe,” I told him.
— MARCH 2023
