The Broken Bowl

Many years ago, in a country in the South, there lived a king. He was very rich. He had large houses, beautiful clothes, a lot of money, rich carpets, and many other wonderful things. He also had many strange and interesting animals. Sitting on a balcony, the king liked to watch his quick horses run past him and his elephants slowly parade and salute him. But best of all, he loved his beautiful bowl made of wonderful glass and gold. There wasn’t a bowl like it in all the country because usually a potter who made something truly beautiful died very soon after. People were sure that this was the king’s command, as he did not want the potter to make another bowl of that kind for another king.

The beautiful bowl decorated the king’s best room, and he showed it only to his friends.

“When my last hour comes, I’m going to die looking at my wonderful bowl. Then I’ll die a happy man.”

Yes, the bowl was really beautiful, and it seems that people of old knew more than we, modern people, about such things.

One day, the whole country celebrated the king’s birthday. Music played, and people danced and sang cheerful songs in the streets. The king, his family, and his friends were in the dining room. The bowl stood on a small table not far from the window. Suddenly, the wind blew, the rich curtain touched the bowl, and it fell to the floor. The bowl broke into many pieces. With a cry, the king and everyone present ran to the bowl to pick it up, but it was too late: instead of the bowl, there were only pieces of glass and gold on the floor.

The king turned pale with anger. He called his people together and ordered them to bring the best potters of the country to him. When the potters arrived, the king said:

“Do you see this broken bowl? You must mend this wonderful thing. If you do not, you will die.”

When the potters heard the king’s words, they grew pale with fear. But when someone brought them to the broken bowl to look at it, they realized how difficult the task really was.

“I am afraid we cannot mend it,” said the head potter.

“What!” cried the king. “You lazy dogs! I’ll tell my people to throw you in prison. I’ll leave you hungry and without a drink of water. Nothing will stop me from doing it. You are lazy, just lazy — that’s your problem!”

“Oh, my king,” answered the head potter, “we are not lazy. We can work day and night, but we cannot mend this bowl. There is only one man in the country who can help us. But he is very old; he will celebrate his 100th birthday next year.”

“Who is he? And why don’t I know him? Where does he live?”

“He is Usman, a very skilled potter who makes wonderful bowls. His last known address is a small village not far from the town,” said the head potter.

“I don’t know how you will do it, yourselves or with Usman’s help, but you must mend my wonderful bowl or you will all die. Go and get busy with the bowl, and be sure not to fool me.”

With these words, the king sent the poor potters away. On their way home, they talked. “What will happen if Usman cannot help us?” they asked each other. “We must hurry to Usman, because time is running out,” they agreed.

The next day, they went to old Usman. People in the village told them where his house was. He lived with his grandson, a pleasant young man and a good worker too.

“It’s kind of you to remember old Usman,” he said.

“We are in great trouble,” said the potters.

“I am sorry to hear that. Won’t you tell me all about it?” said the old man.

For a few minutes, nobody spoke. Then the head potter began, “Well, it’s like this...” and told Usman everything about the king and his wonderful bowl. Usman listened attentively. When the potter finished, Usman poured tea and said, “Let’s have some more tea, and then we shall put our heads together to see what we can do.”

“What is the bowl made of? Have you brought it with you?” asked the old man.

“Yes, here it is,” said the potters, fishing the pieces out of their bag. “It’s made of beautiful glass and gold.”

“Well, I’ll think it over. You will come back in a few days, and I’ll tell you if I can mend it.”

“Oh, no, dear Usman, there is no time to think. If you do not help us, we shall all die.”

“Leave it to me. Go back to the king and ask him to give you a year to mend it. Everything will be all right, you will see.” Old Usman led the potters to the door and said goodbye.

The potters were overjoyed. “We’ll not die! Old Usman will help us!” they exclaimed on their way home.

Days, weeks, and months passed. The potters neither saw the old potter nor heard from him. The king frequently called them and demanded news of the bowl. He was furious, speaking words that bit like dogs’ teeth. The poor potters had nothing to report because they knew nothing about Usman.

One day, when the year was nearly over, the king called the potters and said:

“That will do. You have fooled me long enough. If you don’t bring back my bowl tomorrow, you’ll die.”

The potters returned to their workshop, knowing it was their last day. “Oh, Usman, why haven’t you brought the bowl? What’s the matter with you?” they worried.

Suddenly, they saw old Usman and his grandson walking slowly toward the workshop. The young man carried something under his arm. The potters ran out to meet them. Yes, it was the wonderful bowl.

They thanked Usman profusely, but he refused all payment. “No, no,” he said, “I did it to help you out of trouble. I only want you to remember me and my work after I am gone.”

When the potters presented the bowl to the king and placed it before him, it gleamed on the brown table. It was a pleasure to behold.

The king was happy to have his wonderful bowl back. He rewarded the potters generously.

Of course, there was much talk about the beautiful bowl. “It’s not the king’s bowl,” people said. The potters heard these words.

“We don’t think there’s any truth in that. We are sure of it. One only needs to look at the bowl to understand that there could not be another like it,” they replied.

But people kept talking. The potters began to think more and more about Usman and his work.

“How did he do it?” they asked each other. “Yes, that’s the question. How? There were only pieces of the broken bowl, and now it looks like new. How foolish we were for not asking Usman! We must learn all about it. We shall go to old Usman and have a word with him. He will tell us.”

They went to the old potter and asked him their questions. But Usman, a man of few words, looked at them and said, “There is nothing to tell. I just love my work, and that’s all.”

The potters were not satisfied; they were even angry. They began to watch him and his grandson. One day, when nobody was around, they inspected his house and workshop. In a dark corner, they found the pieces of the old bowl. So the king had a new bowl and didn’t even know it! What a wonderful worker Usman was, fooling the king! The potters laughed at the king, nearly losing their heads with laughter.

Old Usman had kept his word: he had not mended the broken bowl but had made a new beautiful one.